


Shiny Blades and Tempest Flames

by The_Rogue_of_Dragonstone



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Dysfunctional Family, F/F, Family Drama, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 16:33:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 185,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9557303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Rogue_of_Dragonstone/pseuds/The_Rogue_of_Dragonstone
Summary: Evelyn Trevelyan is an alcoholic assassin with very little faith in the world or the Maker. When she ends up stuck with a magical mark on her hand and in the company of strangers, she's got little to be thankful for until she meets a certain loud mouthed imp. The story is based on their adventures and trials. Mostly canon to the events in Inquisition, but with a Trevelyan family subplot.Ellen Trevelyan is an apostate, formerly of the Circle in Kirkwall until Anders pulled his dumb shit move. She's in love with Bethany, the younger sister of the Champion of Kirkwall, Marian Hawke. She travels with Hawke and her kooky pirate lover, and a strange little elf called Merrill.Kallian Tabris is a former Grey Warden on a quest to make it home to her wife, Leliana, whom she's learned has started an Inquisition while the elf was in the Deep Roads for years.Marian Hawke just wants to be left the fuck alone, but her underlying honor is poking at her to act.Join me to hear the tales of my heroes in this completely personal head canon of mine!





	1. Chapter 1

_Andraste, did you really snatch me back before I entered the Black City? Did you really renew my body and mind, to set me on this path with this mark on my hand? I’ve never been anything but a blasphemous drunkard, dangerous with knives and quick tempered. I am the epitome of failure to my father, but the Maker bid you to assign this task to me? I pray for the answer, for I cannot remember. I don’t remember anything before waking to swords trained on me from all sides, and a rabid Seeker of Truth snarling in my face that I am a murderer. I am a murderer, that much is true, but Andraste, please tell them I did not commit this one murder, that the Divine was not my target. She was not the reason I was there… I don’t know if they really believe me, yet._

Evelyn Trevelyan closed her left fist and opened it, gazing down at the mark that bore it’s presence in a glow of electrically charged green light beneath the skin of the palm of her hand. It no longer hurt, nor was it spreading after closing the rift above where she had fallen from the Heavens. The Herald of Andraste they were calling her, giving her the same fervent and zealous looks once saved for the Most Holy, when the woman walked the mortal coil. Where Evelyn had survived, no one else had. No one else remained breathing after the explosion at Divine Justinia’s conclave, mage nor templar, noble nor commoner, Andrastian or no.

_We all know too well how Thedas keeps its “peace”. Thedas and its fool nations only know the cost of blood and gold, all the way back to Tevinter and Arlathan. These people will never change._

The heat of campfire was soothing in the cold night, and the dark and (mostly) quiet forest around them was a boon for her. She enjoyed finery and cities, but Trevelyan never shirked away from a camping trip, never one to be afraid of the dark, and camping had become a part of her traveling lifestyle since leaving Ostwick three years before, when the Circles fell. The trip back to Haven from Val Royeaux was proving to be longer than the trip to the capital of Orlais, presumably at the weight of two new recruits for the Inquisition’s forces in the form of a Circle mage that was also an influential fixture in Empress Celene’s court; the other in the form of a slight elf with an excellent sense of humor and an eye for arrow marks. Evelyn could honestly say now that she had faced a noble’s entire guard, and not a single one of them in pants. Sera had taken every single pair out of their barracks before setting up the meeting with the Inquisition agents, leaving them no choice but to attack in their smalls while Sera and Evelyn both cackled at the sight. Trevelyan had found a fast friend in the elf, and something in her wanted to see more come of it.

_She’s the first person to make me laugh like that in a year or more, and it was only our first meeting. There’s something about that grin of hers that I like._

Madame Vivienne De Fer, former First Enchanter of the Montismmard Circle of Magi and the Enchantress of the Imperial Court, was situated in her personal carriage for the evening, having brought her own house entourage with her. Evelyn had a feeling she and this woman would rarely see eye to eye on anything, as she had a distaste for politics thanks to her father, and the mage seemed to ooze the Game from her very pores. Sera had retired to the tent the other three women shared when Evelyn volunteered to have first watch of the evening with the Seeker. Her once captor, now tentative ally Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast, Right Hand of the Divine and Hero of Orlais, sat across from her on the flames’ other side. The woman’s severe but beautiful features were drawn into a tight crease of her brow and pucker of her fairly attractive mouth, obviously deep in thought and not anywhere near the campsite that slept so soundly around them, aside from the deep snores rumbling the air behind her from Varric and Solas’s tent. The serious expression accentuated the long scar on the woman’s cheek, a scar that Evelyn had to stop herself from staring overlong, as she found it incredibly attractive.

“Do you think I’ve done the right thing?”

A heavy accent mixed with Nevarran bluntness and Orlesian vowels speaking the King’s Tongue brought Evelyn back from her inner musings, making her look up at the Seeker to find the older woman looking at her with that pensive expression in her cinnamon colored eyes.

“Which part, Seeker?” Evelyn asked earnestly with an airy chuckle that Cassandra echoed from her place in front of her.

“Leaving the only real family I have ever known, declaring the Inquisition. After seeing the Lord Seeker in Val Royeaux and the things he said and did, I don’t know if I am extremely right, or a heretical madwoman.”

Evelyn didn’t answer right away, weighing the actions in her mind. She had never been the religious sort. She called herself Andrastian, but could not recite a chant if someone paid her. She shied away from the Chantry as soon as she was old enough to have her first blood because her father planned to have her be a Sister or a templar, the exact opposite from the imposing figure speaking to her now. Cassandra had always been devout, could probably recite Transfigurations forwards and backwards, and possibly in four languages. She knew from their brief conversations in Haven and their longer ones on their travels to the Hinterlands and Val Royeaux over the past three and a half weeks that the woman had trained from a young age to be the hero that sat before her now, having saved the life of a Divine, and served as Right Hand for not one, but two successive Divines in Beatrice and Justinia. This was a heavy question coming from a woman such as Cassandra Pentaghast.

“I don’t believe you to be the sort to do something so significant without a sound purpose,” Evelyn said slowly, mindful that she did not know the warrior well and not wanting to upset the tenuous friendship forming between the two.

“My trainers always told me, ‘Cassandra, you are too brash, you must think before you act’. I simply wonder if this counts among those brash decisions.”

“This wasn’t your decision. You and Leliana were acting on the orders of the Most Holy. The reinstatement of the Inquisition came from the Divine. You are merely doing your job, Seeker. The Chantry is in shambles, the mages and templars are ripping the world asunder, and here we are in the middle of it… flailing.”

The Seeker didn’t reply right away, and for a moment Evelyn wondered if she had spoken wrongly. The Seeker’s expression had not changed, though her gaze was once again trained on the dancing flames before them, shadows playing across her olive skin in the firelight while it‘s reflection swirled in the liquid of her eyes, the frigid breeze ruffling her short raven hair.

“Flailing,” the Seeker murmured a minute later, not looking up at Evelyn. “Apt description, Herald. Tell me, do you feel this is divine providence? I know from your history that you aren’t… well, you’re not what one would expect in an envoy from the Maker. Do you feel like this is what you are meant for?”

Evelyn shifted in her spot, reaching over to grab a log for the fire. The leather beneath her plate mail armor creaked audibly under the effort, the hilt of the dagger in her rib sheath on her right side digging into the flesh under her arm a bit. The feel of her weapon pressed into her made her feel more mortal than before Cassandra had asked the question, a reality of what her life had become since she made the trip to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Other than the heavy weight of the task of sealing the breach, Evelyn did not feel any different at that moment than she ever had. She was still the black sheep of a devout family, a stain on the good name of Trevelyan in her father’s eyes, half of a whole of his biggest mistake.

_“I should have stopped having children after Maxwell was born! You and your sister were a blight in my life the moment you took your first breath and your mother took her last!”_

She still drank whiskey, she still would bed a whore. She was quick to slip her dagger beneath a man’s ribs or slide it across his throat if the cause or coin were right. She was still foul mouthed and dirty-minded. She had no intentions of learning the Chant of Light, nor attending services in any Chantry. She still believed mages were people and deserved the choice of freedom, she still believed the world was hopeless. She didn’t feel enlightened or blessed, this mark on her hand was a fucking curse, something unknown that bound her to a place and an organization full of the faithful who were all looking at her like she was Andraste come back to lead them into righteousness. She fucking hated it, it made her feel like she had to be what they saw, she had to perform miracles for them like a trained animal. Sealing the breach had become the point of no return, and a large piece of Evelyn hoped she would not survive the task.

“No,” she said in barely more than a whisper. The answer twisted in her gut more than she would have liked. She wished she could be something like everyone wanted her to be. But she was just a common thug, noble in nothing but name. “It was a mistake that I survived. I should have died in the temple with everyone else. I don’t know what the mark is, but I doubt the Maker or his Bride would have chosen me over the hundreds of faithful gathered there. I was probably the most worldly person to cross the threshold.”

The only sound between them was Varric’s snores and the crackle of the flames licking at the new log, and Evelyn felt her heart sink that she may have just dashed whatever hope the Seeker still held despite the gaping green hole in the sky above them. But then Cassandra spoke.

“I was bringing Varric to the Conclave to tell his story to the Divine firsthand. I spent nearly two weeks with him in Kirkwall three years ago, having him spin his tale of the Champion of Kirkwall to me. I was trying to get to the bottom of who murdered the Grand Cleric, I went in with the idea that Marian Hawke was somehow to blame, that she was the driving force behind the way Kirkwall crumbled. As he explained the truth… his version of it, as it was, the Champion transformed in my eyes as just the person we needed to lead the Inquisition, the only person that could make the mages see reason, and it became imperative that he tell me of her location. He did not know where she is; as her companion is the captain of a ship, they could be anywhere. He is right.” She paused, readjusting so that she was leaning towards Evelyn as she spoke. “I prayed for the Maker to help us, send us someone, someone that could be what I needed Kallian Tabris or Marian Hawke to be, as I could locate neither one.”

“Is Leliana not Tabris’s lover? Has she not heard anything from the Hero of Ferelden?” Evelyn was no stranger to the story of the Grey Warden and her bard, the latter a flesh and blood presence in Evelyn’s life now as the spymaster of the Inquisition. The women were legends as sure as Marian Hawke and her Isabela, the Champion and her Captain.

“It has been over four years. Well before the rebellion began. But my point is that I had no one else. If I could not locate Hawke, then all was lost to me. So I prayed. I asked the Maker and Andraste for a guide, a beacon, a light in this darkness. Then you came.”

“With my brightly lit hand,” Evelyn added wryly with a crooked grin, and the Seeker gave her a small nod in acknowledgment of the irony.

“With your brightly lit hand,” Cassandra echoed agreeably. “My first reaction was in anger and grief, but when the shock of losing Most Holy had passed, when I saw you close that rift, hope began to fill my soul again. You are exactly what I prayed for, who I prayed for.”

Evelyn felt that weight of responsibility settle on her shoulders once more, her body physically sagging under the weight of Thedas depending on her and this mark on her hand. “I hope you’re right. I promise I’ll do my best to fix this when the time comes, but I cannot promise you the result we seek.”

“There is more to you than just the mark, Herald. I see your expression when it is brought into conversation, that you feel like a tool rather than a person.”

“Like a mage feels every day, I’d imagine,” Evelyn said absently, not seeing the frown that opinion gave the Seeker. “I do not envy the magic in their veins, this experience has been enough for me.”

“I would say that depends on the mage,” a new voice said, and both the women at the fire looked up to see Solas emerging from his shared tent with Varric. He came to the fire and seated himself near the Seeker, his staff lying across his lap, crossing his ankles casually. “You’ll forgive me if I have eavesdropped, but it is difficult for even I to dream when the mountains crumble around my head while the dwarf sleeps.”

Evelyn gave a snort of laughter, sad that Varric had missed the rare joke slipping past the elven apostate’s thin lips. Solas was so inherently serious that Varric had ironically dubbed him “Chuckles” instead of calling him by his given name.

“His baritone is impressive, isn’t it?” Evelyn said lightly, glancing back at the tent where Varric snoozed on, oblivious to everyone else losing sleep because of his snoring.

“His nasal congestion is the lesser of two evils sharing a space with him, trust me. His odor is reprehensible if his stomach does not agree with his dinner, and the Orlesian cuisine from Madame De Fer‘s salon last week seemed to be too rich for him.”

Evelyn’s head went back with the force of her full throated laugh, while Cassandra scoffed in disgust at the thought. Solas gave a smile to the Herald in return, but it faded as yet another voice joined the three.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” A sleepy sounding Sera poked her messy blonde head out from beneath the canvas of their shared tent, a fist rubbing at her eyes. “Somethin’ funny?”

“Solas is a jester tonight,” Evelyn replied, her grin growing noticeably at the sight of the newest addition to the team. “I’m sorry if I woke you, because you won’t be getting back to sleep with that noise over there.” She jerked her head in the direction of Varric’s tent beside theirs.

“Ugh,” Sera groaned, pulling herself out of the tent from beneath the canvas rather than the door. She pulled a bear pelt out with her, wrapping it around herself as she stumbled to the fire with the others. “’S cold,” she mumbled, plunking down directly beside Evelyn, their outer thighs touching, and slinging the pelt across them both.

_I’ve known her for two weeks, and already it is comfortable like this?_

Evelyn’s heart beat picked up just enough for her to notice the growing heat in her face as she looked at the adorable elf, and she quickly averted her gaze when Sera turned to meet it. The thief invoked a shy side to Evelyn she hadn’t felt since she was a teenager and she bedded her first woman, the daughter of a friend of her father’s. The sensation rankled her nerves, and confused her.

Sera was shorter than she by a few inches, as were most elves in comparison to humans, and was smaller framed with sinewy muscles, built for speed and stealth, much like Evelyn herself. Her face wasn’t remarkably beautiful, with a squat, button nose dusted in freckles and lips slightly too large for her face, but the glint of laughter in her eyes and the constant smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth were too cute for words. The girl’s eyes reminded Evelyn of the Waking Sea in the winter, a stormy gray with green undertones. Evelyn could very nearly hear the waves crashing on the rocky shores of Ostwick when she looked at her, and she felt a bit of her homesick that always lurked just under her consciousness ebb away. She had blonde hair that was choppy and short, like she had taken a knife to it in lieu of scissors, but it fit her demeanor so well that it was also an attractive trait that Evelyn found endearing. Something about the very way she carried herself promised spontaneity, havoc, and shenanigans, and it drew Evelyn in like a moth to a candle flame.

“Um, well, if you’re both awake, then surely we should attempt to get some sleep before daybreak, Seeker?” Evelyn tried the most obvious way out, but Cassandra was ever clueless about Evelyn’s predicament, being too close to the elf for her own good.

“I’m all right, for now,” Cassandra disagreed, with a tiny shake of the head. “You may go and rest, however. I’m sure we three can handle it from here.”

“Pffft,” Sera said, getting up and hauling Evelyn to her feet in a remarkable show of strength. “I’m not sittin’ out here with the weird one and the scary one. Come on, Herald, I’ll go back with you.”

Solas gave her a sympathetic smile, but she had a feeling that the mage had misconstrued her reasoning for that she didn’t like Sera, which couldn’t have been further from the truth that she wanted away from her because she liked her. Evelyn made a dismissive gesture with her hand that only he saw, and he gave her a nod as she followed the city elf back to their tent.

There were three bedrolls on the ground, one for each herself, Sera, and Cassandra, but Evelyn watched Sera pull hers closer to the one in the middle of the three. “It’s friggin’ freezing, an’ two bodies are better than one, innit?” she asked Evelyn, who could do nothing but give a jerky nod, shrugging her way out of the long leather coat she wore over her plate mail.

_Why am I freaking out? I’ve been knee deep in demons for three and a half weeks and I’m scared to sleep beside a cute girl? Snap out of it, Trevelyan._

She loosened the clasps on her plate mail and hardened jerkin, taking care to remove her daggers first so the entire thing didn’t just fall to the ground and make a huge noise. She took off her hip sheaths, too, and her ankle strap, before removing the jerkin and her boots, coming to the bedroll in nothing but her tunic and trousers. Sera was giving her an amused grin, settling down and pulling the pelt up over her shoulder.

“Just how many knives do you carry?” she asked her, and Evelyn chuckled as she scooted beneath the pelt with Sera.

“Enough,” Evelyn answered honestly, and Sera giggled at the evasion.

She was acutely aware of the other woman beneath the pelt, the heat signature on her left side immensely warmer than just a pelt alone. It was cold outside, and even more so away from the friendly glow of the fire just outside the tent, so Evelyn did appreciate the idea the strange girl had. She just wished like hell the urge to touch her would fade, and then all would be well.

“So, are you and the Seeker…?”

The abrupt question threw Evelyn for a loop, and at first she didn’t understand what Sera meant by it, but when the intention of the question sunk in, Evelyn couldn’t help but laugh. A lot. As quietly as she could.

“No!” Evelyn couldn’t believe someone had asked that of Cassandra Pentaghast, too pious to ever sleep with a woman. “Why the hell would you think so?”

Sera gave Evelyn a small shove for laughing at what she meant to be a serious question. “You just asked her to come to bed with you, how was I supposed to know what you meant by it?” she whispered fiercely, embarrassed at her false assumption. “You both come off as lady lovers, just thought it might be together, I don’t know.”

“Only one of us is a ’lady lover’, as you say,” Evelyn said with a smirk, rolling over to face away from the thief, laying her bait in her trap carefully, the first bold flirt she had given the girl since they’d met twelve days before. “I’ll let you figure out for yourself which it is.”

“I know which I hope it is.” The husky response caught Evelyn off guard, making her stiffen despite herself. She wasn’t used to being flirted with so directly by anyone other than whores that are paid to flirt back, so Sera’s admission was a very new thing to her. All the women that Evelyn had bedded outside of brothels were so paranoid about being caught with the infamous Trevelyan that they basically wore masks in and out of her rooms, forget brazenly flinging flirtatious invitations.

“I’m sure she is quite the sight outside that armor, too,” Evelyn bluffed, not daring to roll over for Sera to see the hopeful glint in her eyes that the elf indeed meant what she thought she meant.

“I wouldn’t know, she wears her clothes to bed,” Sera returned pointedly, and Evelyn didn’t try to hold back her grin.

_Well met, Sera. Well met._

“Stick around long enough, she may change her mind eventually,” Evelyn yawned, feeling the relaxation stealing over her body as the elf pressed closer, a tentative arm slipping around Evelyn‘s waist.

“Is this okay, Herald? You’re warm,” Sera whispered, snuggling as close to Evelyn as possible.

Evelyn didn’t answer her, just reached down and threaded her fingers through Sera’s loosely, enjoying the tiny squeeze the girl gave her in response. They didn’t speak again, just laid there just like that, listening to Varric snore until the comfort of each other took them off to sleep.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So... probably gonna upload as much of the 14 chapters I have written thus far as I can tonight.

Their arrival back at Haven from Val Royeaux was short lived, as arguments in the war council decided to investigate the invitation from former Grand Enchanter Fiona, leader of the mage rebellion in Redcliffe. There was much to be done in the region as far as caring for refugees and citizens of the small townships in the Hinterlands, so it was decided that an extended trip would best benefit the Inquisition as far as influence and reputation as well trying to convince the mages to work with them to seal the breach. The mages also were a better bet than the embittered templars that Commander Cullen Rutherford wanted to pursue, but the man hadn’t been in Val Royeaux to see them strike down a Revered Mother and shit all over the Chantry before declaring them unfit for protection and leaving the city.

Evelyn didn’t want to contend with whatever animosity there seemed to be between Lord Seeker Lucius Corin and Cassandra Pentaghast, whom he labeled a deserter and traitor to her creed. And she never much liked templars after watching them drag her twin sister away when she was a child, never to be seen again, so there was that. Unfortunately, everyone in the room knew that tidbit of her past and it was a druffalo standing in the corner that Evelyn wanted mage support because of the fact.

“It was an open invitation to convene with the mages,” Evelyn said with a deep finality she did not know she possessed, and it shut the bickering leaders up. “Yes, Commander, it may well be a trap, but it is better to try this than to beg after templars that are outright hostile to the Inquisition. Leliana and Josephine are right in this. I won’t go alone.”

“I shall go with her,” Cassandra confirmed, and Evelyn gave her a nod of thanks for her support.

“Fine,” Cullen conceded with a reluctant tone, standing up from where he was leaning on his hands against the map in front of them. He clasped his hands behind his back and started pacing the length of the room behind the table, looking at his boots move across the rug.

“We have templars here loyal to the cause,” Leliana said with an air of consolation, looking at the commander with something like pity in her eyes. Evelyn did not doubt that Leliana knew something about his aversion to mages that the other three women in the room did not, aside from the fact he had been a knight-captain in Kirkwall’s Circle under Meredith Stannard, and that alone would give anyone nightmares, even four years later.

“We will be lucky if they do not desert when we side with the apostates,” Cullen growled lowly, not looking at any of them. “But if the Herald wants to go chasing mages, let her.” He made a sharp gesture with his gloved hand towards the door.

“It isn’t about what I _want_ , Commander, it is about what is available and willing to talk to us about an alliance to fix the real fucking problem, which is the Maker-damned hole in the sky!” Evelyn didn’t really mean to lose her temper, but his attitude was the straw that broke the horse’s back after nearly a month of sleeping on the frozen ground with little to no alcohol in her life.

“So it has nothing to do with your mage sister?”

_Annnnnd there it is. Good job, dick._

Evelyn had to swallow hard to keep those words from flying out of her mouth and making this tense situation a thousand times worse, something that showed her just how far she had already come. A month ago, his tongue would be on the floor, still twitching after she had relieved his oral cavity of the spiteful thing.

The entire room froze at the accusation, even Cullen himself, who turned a bright red in embarrassment that he had uttered the words aloud. Evelyn didn’t reply right away, choking on the lump of emotion that had risen in her throat with the words she forced herself to withhold. No, it didn’t have anything to do with Ellen. Her rage rose with every tick of the seconds that passed, before Cullen deflated and looked at her in sorrowful apology.

“I am sorry, Herald. That was out of line. I shouldn’t have--”

“It’s fine,” Evelyn lied smoothly, schooling her face into a neutral expression. “The Seeker and I will depart with a small company to the Hinterlands at first light. Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I am going to get drunk.”

Evelyn turned on her heel and walked away from Cassandra, Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine without another word to visit Flissa in the tavern. She had been craving a drink since she left Val Royeaux, and there was not a drop to be had on the trip back, not a tavern for miles. This conversation with the leaders of the Inquisition had not quelled her thirst in the slightest. Flissa, the bar keep, knew exactly what Evelyn wanted before she even opened her mouth, and delivered a bowl of stew and bread to her, with a full bottle of sour whiskey.

“Long trip, Herald?” the woman asked in her high pitched voice, and Evelyn just grunted in response.

It had been a long trip, and now that she was back in Haven, she felt a little disappointed that the snuggle she’d shared with Sera the night before wasn’t likely to happen again that night. Despite the cold and hard ground, it was the best sleep she’d had since she had fallen from the sky, and she would trade her straw mattress and warm quarters for a chance at another night with her. They had awoken in a different position than they’d fallen asleep, with Evelyn on her other side with her arms around Sera, and Sera huddled into her chest with her face pressed into her neck. It wasn’t awkward or weird, and they both just laughed it off before getting dressed and packed to finish the trip back.

“Oi, let me get what she’s havin’,” came a now familiar and very welcome Fereldan accent from her right.

Evelyn grinned and looked over to see Sera swing her leg over the empty stool beside her, giving her a nudge. Evelyn nudged her back, and when Flissa brought over the food, Evelyn pushed Sera’s three silver back to her, replacing it with her own. “This one is on me,” Evelyn said to Flissa, who nodded and took Evelyn’s coin instead.

“Buying me dinner is good step, Herald,” Sera said with a bright grin, and Evelyn flinched at the name. “Thanks.”

“Call me Evelyn, or Trevelyan, but… from you, Herald is too much.”

“Why?”

_Because I like you and I want you to call me by my name, not some title thrust on me._

Evelyn shrugged, looking back down at the bowl in front of her. “The title carries weight, that’s all.”

Sera nodded, stuffing her face with spoonful after spoonful of vegetables and druffalo chunks. “I can’t call you by your name, seems disrespectful. Like, if I do it, others will, too,” she explained with her mouth so full that her cheeks were huge, yet the words were not impaired.

Evelyn barked a laugh. “I’d be okay with that. The Seeker may shit kittens, though. She’s very keen on the Herald of Andraste thing.”

Sera leaned closer after she’d swallowed, lowering her voice so that she couldn’t be heard beneath the sound of Maryden the minstrel singing about the Empress. “I can’t call you by name in front of people. People need hope, and the Herald gives it to ‘em. But I’ll call you Evelyn when we are alone, I promise. I get it.”

Evelyn felt a thrill go down her spine at the sound of her name coming from the girl, and she couldn’t help the grin that broke over her face. She pulled the cork from the neck of her whiskey bottle and took a swig, smacking her lips at the burn going down her throat. “That’s nice,” she sighed happily, meaning both the sound of her name and the whiskey going down.

“You drink like you can keep up,” Sera observed in a pleased sort of tone. “You’re different. You sure you’re a noble?”

Evelyn laughed at the question, something she had heard her entire twenty-two summers alive, especially from her father. “If my last name were not a brand of nobility, I would not be considered as such, no. There is nothing about me that reflects my family. My older brother soaked it all up before my sister and I inherited the womb, it seems.” She took another drink of her whiskey, and gestured at the elf with her bottle. “What about you? Where are you from?”

“Ferelden,” came the predictable answer, and Evelyn rolled her eyes at the obvious evasion.

“I can hear that in your accent. Where in Ferelden?”

“Here and there. North, south, anywhere I wanted, really.”

Evelyn made her eyes wide as if in recognition, and slapped the elf’s forearm. “I know exactly where you’re talking about! I used to have a friend that ran a tavern on the corner of North Gaping Bumhole, across the street from West Flappy Minge!”

Sera dissolved into laughter, causing Evelyn to laugh with her, shaking her head at herself for laughing at her own jokes. “Okay, fine. Denerim, mostly. But I got out of there a few years after the Blight, and haven’t been back since,” Sera allowed, still snickering to herself. “Cheeky arse,” she added with another nudge.

“Do you have family in Denerim?”

Sera shook her head, dipping her bread into her stew and taking a bite. “No,” she said, her mouth full again. “Never had parents. I lived in the orphanage in the alienage until the Blight happened and the big hats started selling off the elves as slaves or using them in blood magic, scary shite. I ran away after that, and lived in the back alleys, stealin’ food and sneakin’ into places to sleep until a woman sort of adopted me. She didn’t last long, though, and then I met a Red Jenny who showed me how to take care of myself.”

“Is that who trained you to use a bow?” Evelyn was flattered that she was getting this much out of the elf, who seemed to be even more private about her life than Evelyn had ever been.

“What? No. No one trained me,” Sera said, surprised.

Evelyn narrowed her eyes, skeptical of the claim. “No one trained you? You just picked it up one day and started making bullseye shots naturally?”

“No, not exactly. I mean, I taught myself. It wasn’t like that, took work, a bit.”

“Is that an elf thing? Natural archers? Because you’re really good to not have a formal trainer.” The first shot Evelyn ever saw from the girl had purposefully zipped past her ear and hit the ground in front of her to catch her attention. Any lesser skilled bowman would have killed her on the spot.

Sera snorted derisively, reaching over and taking the bottle out of Evelyn’s hand, turning it up for an impressive chug. “Most elves I know wouldn’t know an arrow if they were sittin’ on one,” she told Evelyn after she swallowed the mouthful, passing her bottle back. “So, no, I don’t think it’s ‘an elf thing’.”

“How old are you, Sera?” Evelyn needed to know that she was older than she looked, just because if she later found out the girl was too young, she would feel really stupid for the feelings going on inside of her right now.

“All these friggin’ questions! Andraste’s tits, you’re doin’ my head in.”

“I’m fascinated, what can I say?” Evelyn gave her a smirk, and Sera chuckled softly, shaking her head at the Herald.

“I don’t know. ‘Round twenty summers, maybe? The Blight was ten years ago, and I hadn’t bled my first blood, yet. I reached my full height a few years ago. I’d guess twenty to twenty three.” Sera swiped the bottle again, taking another drink. “I don’t know why I’m tellin’ you all of this, never tell anyone this shite,” she muttered after she swallowed, sounding as if she were saying it more to herself than to Evelyn.

“It’s obviously my charm and smashing good looks,” Evelyn said seriously, taking her bottle back for an indulgent drink.

“Obviously,” Sera agreed sarcastically, rolling those gorgeous eyes at her new friend, but not quenching the slight grin on her face. “How about you, Herald? How old are you?”

“Not long over twenty two. We are around the same age, it seems. I’d never left Ostwick at the time the Blight happened. It was just a distant story to me, other than the refugees that flooded the Marches.”

Sera chuckled darkly. “Lucky you, then. It wasn’t the most fun I’ve ever had, that’s for sure.”

“I can imagine,” Evelyn said without thinking, and the elf looked at her with a haunted expression now clouding her eyes.

“No,” she told Evelyn flatly, looking away and putting down her spoon. “You can’t.”

Evelyn felt like shoving her foot down her throat as she looked away and busied herself with stirring what little there was left of her stew slowly. “You’re right,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

_Good one, Evelyn, just talk yourself right on out. Fuck it._

She pushed her bowl towards the back of the bar and stood up, taking her whiskey bottle in one hand. She didn’t make eye contact with Sera again as she excused herself. “I should go to my cabin, I leave for the Hinterlands at dawn. Thank you for your company tonight, Sera. Good eve.” She gave a slight bow to the elf and turned to hurry out of the back door of the tavern to her cabin just down the hill from it, dying in embarrassment of her fat mouth.

She hadn’t taken three steps outside the door in the snow when the tavern door she let shut behind her flew open again. “Wait!” Sera’s voice rang out into the darkness after Evelyn, who stopped in her pursuit of personal sanctuary but did not turn around to face the girl in her shame of thoughtless words.

She heard a quick succession of footsteps crunching in the snow, and then felt a hand touch her shoulder, turning her so that she was facing the elf. Sera was wearing a tiny smile on her face when Evelyn dared to look at her, and she shook her head at Evelyn. “Don’t leave like that. It was just a slip, Herald. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Even so,” Evelyn said softly, feeling a little better. “I really do have to be up at the ass crack of dawn to leave again.”

“Let me come with you,” Sera blurted, surprising both of them it seemed, as her hand flew up over her mouth as soon as the words tumbled out.

“I got the impression that you didn’t like sleeping in the woods,” Evelyn said carefully, not daring to show the hope in her words. She wanted Sera to come along, but she wouldn’t have asked her just out of courtesy to her.

“I don’t,” Sera admitted, shaking her head. “But last night wasn’t so bad.”

Evelyn felt a slow grin spread across her face at the acknowledgment of their sleeping arrangement, and that Sera had apparently enjoyed it as much as she did. She glanced over her shoulder and stared at the steps that led down to her cabin down the path in front of the tavern, thinking hard about what she was about to suggest, and wondering if Sera would take her up on it. “I… have a personal cabin, down the hill. There’s a fire lit, and a straw mattress. If you’d rather have that than a cot to yourself tonight, the offer is open.”

“I’m not a sodding idiot. Lead the way, Herald.”

Evelyn turned and resumed the trek up past where Solas was peering out of his own cabin window at the two as they passed, but when Evelyn gave him a tiny wave, he disappeared from view without returning it, though she was sure he saw. Her hair fell in her face as she looked down at the ground in front of her, wondering what that was about, because she couldn’t help but feel like he had just brushed her off. She and Solas had gotten on well, and she hadn’t said anything stupid to ruin it, yet.

Her cabin was an immediate relief from the cold, which Evelyn seemed to feel more in her bones when dressed in her simple clothes rather than her armor. She made a direct line to the fire place, turning her spine to it and turning up the whiskey bottle simultaneously. Sera was looking around the cabin at the stuff that had been there since Evelyn first woke in Haven over a month before, probably wondering if any of it was worth selling off for a copper, same as Evelyn herself had when she’d woken there. Evelyn watched her with an amused stare, waiting to see if Sera would mention it. She had only spent maybe a total of four nights here, and if Sera were a good thief, she would pick up on that.

“None of this shite is yours,” Sera said, confused. “Was this someone else’s place before you started kippin’ here?”

“Astute observation,” Evelyn praised, pleased that the girl had indeed noticed. Sera’s confused look deepened.

“Ass-toot?” Sera asked, butchering the word on purpose, but nonetheless letting Evelyn know she didn’t know what it meant. That didn’t stop them from keeling over in laughter at the way she pronounced it, and it was only after Evelyn had wiped the tears from her eyes that she attempted to explain it.

“It means sharp. Smart. It is a compliment.”

Sera’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You makin’ fun o’ me, Herald?”

“Not at all, I swear. Some people don’t like to read, or sit still at all. I think you could be one of those people. Doesn’t make you stupid, you just learn differently.” Evelyn held the bottle out to the girl in an offer of peace, and Sera took it with a small smile, sipping it before handing it back and turning to continue taking in the surroundings.

“Not a lot of people see it that way, you know? Been called stupid lots, mostly by nobles chasin’ me out of their house when I was a kid stealin’ food. But if I was stupid, how did I get past their guards and locks?”

“Exactly,” Evelyn said, pleased that Sera saw herself as intelligent. There was no way the girl could be alive and healthy if she were not, there would be no way she could have pulled off that genius plan to unpants the guards, or made the Inquisition see sense in her underground network of common people working for them. Sera was highly intelligent, and apparently adaptive to environment as well, considering her lack of complaints about the lifestyle she’d now adopted. “You don’t make it quite as far being a stupid rogue, I should know.”

“Yeah. You definitely walk the walk, I noticed it right away.” Sera moved across the room to stand beside her at the fire. “Sometimes it’s useful, though. When they think you’re stupid. They say more, you learn more.”

Evelyn couldn’t deny the truth of those words. The truth in them was what set Sera’s network of Friends aside as a useful source of information. The Red Jennies were the heroes of the kitchen staff of most noble households, so why not share the gossip that ran rampant in their ranks about their employers? And if their enemies got the same gossip and used it as leverage in one way or another, who really cared? Teach him a lesson that ‘serving girl’ and ‘prostitute’ are not synonymous, because that was a problem nearly all noble men shared, her own father included. Evelyn had three half-siblings that were bastard children of her father’s, but no one spoke of it because their mother was an elven housemaid.

“You’re really pretty, Evelyn Trevelyan, y’know that?” The abrupt change of subject made Evelyn look over at Sera in surprise, half wondering if she was talking to her or not, despite the use of her full name. But the elf’s stormy eyes were trained on her face, and she felt the heat of a blush rise against her will.

“So are you,” she heard herself say, “but it will take more than a compliment to get me out of my clothes when we go to bed.”

Sera grinned widely at that. “I’m not goin’ anywhere anytime soon, and I like talkin’ to you, so it’s all good, innit?”

Evelyn raised her bottle in agreement, taking a large swallow before passing it to Sera, who matched her drink in their own version of a toast. “I like you. I’m glad you decided to stick around, even if this isn’t your thing,” Evelyn admitted. “Now that you’re here, I find it hard to imagine it without you again.”

“Ugh, I know, right? This place is bloody _boring_. I don’t know how you’ve gone this long,” Sera said jokingly yet seriously, and Evelyn chuckled.

“Being on the road and killing demons has kept me distracted,” she replied honestly, and she saw Sera give a shudder.

“Demons. I’ve seen ‘em, but I’ve never put arrows in one,” Sera said somewhat nervously, and Evelyn reached over to give her shoulder a squeeze.

“It was hard, at first. They’re really ugly, and they smell terrible. But after a while, you’re just so sick of seeing them and pissed off that you have to kill more of them that you forget about the rest of it.” She gave Sera a supportive, reassuring smile. “You’ll be fine. I won’t let them near you, I promise.”

Sera shook her head, but didn’t break the gaze they shared. “You’re loony, and I believe you.”

There was a knock on her door before Evelyn could reply, and she gave Sera a little shrug as she crossed to answer it. Sister Leliana was standing out in the falling snow, hood up and light blue eyes boring into Evelyn as soon as her own met them. “Leliana,” Evelyn said in greeting, standing aside to allow the older rogue to enter.

“Evelyn,” Leliana returned the informality, her eyes finding Sera in the room as she lowered her hood. “I did not know you had company; we can speak in the morning, if you prefer.”

“No, that’s okay, if you don’t mind speaking in front of Sera. Sera, this is Sister Nightingale, co-founder of the Inquisition, our spymaster and our seneschal. Nightingale, one of our newest recruits from Val Royeaux, Sera. She’s an exceptional shot with a bow, I think you of all people would be impressed.”

“The Red Jenny,” Leliana said cordially, dipping her head in greeting. “I’ve had dealings with your Friends in the past. I welcome you and your contacts to the Inquisition, Sera.”

“Uh, thanks,” Sera said, turning pink at the tips of her long ears and scratching at the back of her head nervously. Evelyn felt a rush of jealousy that Leliana had made the girl blush with only a greeting, yet she couldn’t make her do so with deliberate flirting, but it passed as quickly as it had come.

“I received a raven from my scouts in the Hinterlands not an hour ago, and the information has given me a sliver of hope,” Leliana said, beginning to pace the tiny length of the cabin. “There is a Grey Warden called Blackwall near Lake Luthias, aiding with bandit control. I’d like it if you made contact with him while you’re there. The disappearance of the Wardens and the murder of the Divine are too close together to be mere coincidence, but Cullen, Cassandra, and Josephine all think I’m reaching. But I cannot shake this feeling, Herald.”

“They think you’re reaching because of Kallian Tabris and who she is to you.” Evelyn did not need the single nod that Leliana gave her to know she was right. “Just as Cullen accused me of chasing mages for the sake of my twin sister.”

“Something is not right with the entire order. Kallian’s disappearance from Val Royeaux five years ago was just the beginning. Wardens from Ferelden and Orlais have gone missing since, including the Warden Commander of Ferelden. I have always believed that Kal would never just leave me without notice, not without some grand reason. If she left for the good of the land, she told me naught, rather it be out of protection of myself and my purpose, or be it because she was taken against her will.” Leliana’s voice was shaking with the words she spoke, and Evelyn could feel the pain and desperation lacing her tone. “I just want to see what this man knows, and if it can put my ill feelings to rest.”

“And if he cannot?” Evelyn asked gently, and Leliana gave her sad smile.

“Then at least I have tried. Will you do this for me?”

Evelyn glanced at Sera, comparing how she would feel if the imp went missing on her after years of an open and committed relationship. Just the first few days with the girl had made her giddy, so she couldn’t imagine how Leliana must feel not knowing if her other half was dead or alive. “Of course I will,” Evelyn said, nodding her head slowly. “I’ll see to it before we go into Redcliffe.”

Leliana bowed her head in thanks, pulling her hood back up over her red hair. “Thank you, Herald. And Sera, I hope you know what you’re signing yourself up for. Evelyn is a hero, she just doesn’t know it, yet. It is a hard life to play second to the rest of the world.”

“Hush,” Evelyn laughed quickly, uncertainly, blushing and not daring to look at Sera‘s reaction to the words. “I’m just here to wave my hand around.”

Leliana gave her coy smile, but said nothing else as she departed the cabin, leaving the two alone once more. Evelyn looked back at Sera, rubbing the back of her neck nervously, waiting for the elf to say something about Leliana’s warning. Sera was looking at the closed door to the cabin, her mouth partly open as if she was about to speak. “Sera?” Evelyn finally said, unable to stand the stretch of silence after the spymaster had gone. She worried a bit about the effect the words would take, and vowed to have words with the spymaster if she had ruined her chances with this girl that had dominated her thoughts for twelve days.

“You don’t make ‘em simple around here, d’ya?” Sera said, looking at Evelyn again. “Tall, dark and sexy; tall, dark and scary; and now average, red and terrifying. I’d take Cassandra on any day if I had to face Sister Nightingale once.”

Evelyn laughed with her, completely understanding the place the elf was standing at the moment, having been under the scrutiny of both women at once not long ago. The Hands of the Divine were indeed terrifying women, and being their prisoner had not been Evelyn’s shining moment in life. “The Inquisition is full of intimidating women, the commander has pointed it out several times. I think he feels inferior.”

“He’s the templar, yeah? The one with the nice hair?”

“Cullen Rutherford, former Knight-Captain of the Circle in Kirkwall, now Commander of the Inquisition forces, yes,” Evelyn confirmed. “I’m not a fan of templars, really. I’ve never had very good experiences with them. First two of them drag my sister off from me, screaming and crying while I bit and clawed my way through two more of them before she was out of my sight; then my father tries to pawn me off on the order in Ostwick, giving me a ‘choice’ between being a templar and being a Sister in the Chantry. When I ran away after my eighteenth name day, it was when things were still crumbling to shit with the Circles, so I had to fight my way across the Free Marches trying to find my sister. Then I had to fight my way through rogue templars and apostates of all sorts to find the Chantry lady that gave me the tip on Val Royeaux, where I watched one slap the shit out of a Sister and spit on her when she fell. Fuck a templar.”

“Your sister was a mage, then?” Sera asked carefully, curiously, but Evelyn could sense the trepidation behind the curious note. Sera didn’t like magic, she had made that abundantly clear with her comments and attitude toward Solas since meeting him.

Evelyn nodded. “She started showing signs of magic when we were seven or eight years old. My father hid it for three years before a neighboring family saw her light a candle without the help of a match. She was taken not long after our eleventh name day. The last we heard of her was a letter from the First Enchanter of the Circle in Starkhaven, saying that Ellen had passed her Harrowing and was now a full mage in their Circle. That was seven years ago.”  
  
Sera frowned, looking down at the hearthstone beneath her boots, then back up at Evelyn. “You’ll see her again. You’re the Herald, she’ll find you.”

“The Circles disbanded years ago,” Evelyn said with a hollow quality to her voice. “I was in Starkhaven at the time. There was no sign of an Ellen Trevelyan in their roster. Either she had transferred to another Circle, or she was dead. I didn’t want to know the truth. I still don’t.”

Sera moved closer to Evelyn, slipping an arm around her middle in a show of comfort, but didn’t ask anything further about Ellen.

_Thank the Maker for this one, she doesn’t keep talking when I don’t want to._

“Do you play Wicked Grace?” Evelyn heard herself ask a moment later, and with the mischief that swirled in Sera’s eyes at the question, Evelyn knew the answer before the girl gave it.

“You bet your sweet arse I do, and I’m good at it.”

Evelyn smirked and pulled away from the elf to get her travel pack, digging out a set of cards. “Put your silver where your mouth is and show me, imp.”

“I’d rather put something else where my mouth is, but if you want to lose some coin, that’s on you, Evelyn.”

“I’ll keep that first offer in mind,” Evelyn said playfully with a wink, letting her eyes drift down the front of Sera’s red smock, taking note of the small breasts and flat belly the elf possessed. “But I doubt you’ll be taking any coin from me tonight.”

How wrong she was. Sera had noticed how Evelyn’s eyes lingered on her body before they began and worked that to her advantage, unbuttoning just enough at the top of her smock to show the valley between her tits, making a show of leaning forward when she placed a bet or drew a card. It never failed: Evelyn’s eyes were magnetized to the shadowy place beneath her shirt, and Sera was able to pull more than one card per turn, effectively beating her in every hand.

“Well, if we keep goin’, you’re gonna hafta start bettin’ your clothes,” Sera said suggestively, eyes sliding down Evelyn’s body slowly. The whiskey had gone to her head as well as Evelyn’s, who seriously debated on bedding the elf that night.

_She’s literally asking for it, but we went through a bottle of whiskey playing cards… But what if we did it, and it became terribly awkward after? I like her, I don’t want a one night stand with this one. I can’t fuck her, not yet. I can’t even kiss her, yet. It’s too soon, don’t fucking ruin this for yourself, Trevelyan._

“Then perhaps we should call it an evening and just sleep? We leave in a few hours, and I don’t want to walk out of Haven shit-faced and walking funny because a horny imp had her way with me.”

“You would be walking funny, yeah,” Sera said thoughtfully, her pointed ears standing up in interest, still letting her eyes scan over Evelyn as she had done to Sera all night. “I wouldn’t stop after just once.”

Evelyn felt a tug of arousal in her gut, and she had to swallow hard to keep from rising to Sera’s taunt. The elf was baiting her to fuck, and she knew it. Evelyn wanted to take the bait and throw all caution to the winds, but there was something holding her back from being that same woman she was a month before. So instead she stood and held out a hand to Sera, who took it. Evelyn pulled her to her feet and placed her hands around the elf’s slim waist, looking directly into the stormy seas before her, the echoes of waves crashing again in the back of her mind. “I wouldn’t want you to stop after just once,” Evelyn said in barely more than a whisper. “But I like this thing between us, and I don’t want to ruin it. Can’t we just enjoy an embrace tonight, like we did last night?”

“Cuddle buddies, then?” Sera asked, almost disappointedly, ears drooping, and Evelyn felt a pang at her heart at the tone in her voice.

“For now,” Evelyn said, nodding with finality. “But not for long, I think.”

“Thank the friggin’ Maker, ‘cause I don’t know how I would survive around you for much longer with this feelin’ in my pants.”

Evelyn didn’t let the disappointment the remark caused her to show, laughing at it instead. She wanted Sera around for more than just the feeling in her pants, but that was a conversation for another night. This night she pulled off her boots and laid down fully dressed as she did in the tent, and Sera followed suit, scooting directly against Evelyn before turning the flame down on the oil lamp next to the bed. Fingers sought hers out in the semi-dark of the cabin, lacing together without a word from either owner, and Evelyn buried her face into the top of the elf’s head as Sera burrowed into her chest. Several minutes passed before a whisper from Sera reached her ears.

“Not just the feelin’ in my pants, either.”

Evelyn smiled, feeling a flip in her belly at the words, and she tightened her fingers in Sera’s. “Good,” she whispered back. “Sweet dreams, imp.”

“You, too, Herald.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 


	3. Chapter 3

A sharp knock on the door woke Evelyn, who sat straight up in bed, looking for a dagger that wasn’t attached to her side. What _was_ attached to her side was a sleepy elf with tousled hair, blinking at her rapidly. Evelyn’s movement had jostled the girl awake, having been sleeping peacefully on Evelyn’s chest ten seconds before. It finally settled in Evelyn’s brain that she was in Haven, in her cabin, and someone was at her door.

“Herald! I must speak with you before you depart!” It was the commander’s voice, and that made Evelyn curious, as the man had never sought her out before now.

“Sorry, imp,” Evelyn apologized to Sera, who gave a lazy wave of her hand before pulling the blankets over her head and rolling over to face the wall.

Evelyn stumbled over the elf and to the floor, half crawling to unlock and open the wooden door to allow the man entrance. “Good morning, Commander,” she greeted with a yawn, closing her eyes against the glare of the sun rising behind the breach. “What the bloody hell is going on?”

“Nothing is amiss, I just wanted to pass along some information before you leave,” he replied, striding into the cabin in full armor, as if the man did not sleep. “There is a horse master right outside Redcliffe that you must meet with. I feel that he would be an asset to the Inquisition if we can convince him to join us.”

“We do need steeds,” Evelyn agreed sleepily, and Cullen nodded.

“I’m sure that mounts would be very handy in the days to come. Surely your legs will thank you, at the very least.” He paused, clearing his throat, then looked at her with an apologetic look. “Also… I really am very sorry for what I said yesterday in the council meeting. I had no cause to accuse you so, even if that were your motive.”

“I assure you it is not. I haven’t spoken to my sister since she was taken, Commander. I do not know where she is, to this day.”

Cullen licked his lips, looking like he was struggling with a decision. “I, uh, can help you with that. She was in Starkhaven, yes?”

Evelyn’s mouth snapped shut in mid-yawn, and she gave him an incredulous look. “Yes, as far as I know. But I was in Starkhaven when the Circles fell. I looked for her there. She wasn’t among the Circle registry, any longer.”

Cullen looked at anything in the room that wasn’t Evelyn, giving her the impression that he knew where Ellen was, indeed, and Evelyn didn’t push the man, if he were truly willing to divulge this information to her. “That’s because she was transferred to the Gallows in Kirkwall, in 9:37. She’d run from Starkhaven and went to Tantervale, then she ran from there and was captured in Kirkwall. She was brought in about three months before things went downhill.”

Evelyn’s blood went cold. Ellen was in Kirkwall during the mage rebellion? Then surely she was dead, it was common knowledge that less than a hundred mages survived the ordeal between them and the templars. Evelyn’s knees gave out from under her, and Cullen reached out and grabbed her before she hit the wooden planks of floor below them. “You… you knew her,” Evelyn realized, looking up at the taller man with wonder and accusation all rolled into one.

Cullen had the decency to look ashamed at withholding this information from the Herald of Andraste as he helped her across the room and into a chair. “I did,” he answered carefully. “I knew her as a strong and talented mage, with a big mouth and an irreverence for anything not bolted down. You and she are very obviously twins in more than looks.”

“‘Are’? She lives?”

Cullen gave a nod of confirmation, and Evelyn breathed a sigh of relief when a weight she did not know she held lifted from her. “She lives. She made friends in high places during her time in Kirkwall. The last I saw of your sister was when I allowed the Champion and her friends to leave the Gallows before reinforcements arrived after Meredith’s death, if that’s what you can call it. She left with them, on the pirate’s vessel.”

“My sister took up with the Champion of Kirkwall?”

Cullen looked uncomfortable as he shifted in his armor, placing a hand on the pommel of his sheathed long sword. “Er… sort of,” he said haltingly. “It was more like she took up with the Champion’s younger sister, Bethany.”

Evelyn didn’t reply at first, not knowing exactly what to say, but then she read Cullen’s body language and saw how uncomfortable it made him to acknowledge the connection between her twin sister and the rag tag band of the Champion’s companions. “Wait,” she said slowly, wondering if this was yet another thing she and Ellen had in common. “When you say she took up with Bethany Hawke, do you mean…?”

“They were lovers, yes,” Cullen replied, his face coloring again with having to say it aloud. “They left with Hawke, Isabela, Varric, the guard captain, the elf with the weird tattoos, the elven maleficar, and that Grey Warden abomination.”

“Varric knew that and he didn’t tell me? I’m going to fucking _kill_ him.”

She immediately set to putting on her boots with blood on the brain, but then there was a slender hand gently touching her shoulder, the contact having an immediate effect on her building rage. Cullen gave a yelp of surprise at the sudden appearance of another person, having believed he and the Herald were alone the entire time. Sera didn’t even spare the man a glance.

“Hold on, Herald,” she said in a croaky, sleepy tone. “It’s too early for murder. Ask him why he didn’t tell you first. I kinda like havin’ him around, he’s funny.”

“He’s going to look as funny when I’m through with him,” Evelyn answered, but there was no heat behind her words. She would definitely be bringing this conversation up with the dwarf on this trip, and if he lied to her she would cut off his balls and feed them to him.

“Varric has a flair for the dramatic, as I am sure you’ve noticed,” Cullen said dryly once he recovered from the shock of seeing Sera appear seemingly from nowhere to calm the Herald. “And who is this young lady?”

“I’m Sera,” the elf replied automatically. “You’re Cullen, the templar. Heard about you from the Seeker and the Herald, here.”

Cullen bowed politely in greeting, and Evelyn felt her respect for him rise just a bit more. She had been wary of him from the moment she saw him, pegging him as exactly what he was before she ever knew it for certain. Her first impression of him had not been bad, even if the words they had exchanged were brief in the pass to close the rift she had fallen from in the ruins of the temple. He was certainly a capable warrior, and was doing fine work with the Inquisition troops, so she had no qualm with his position. His first actual offense had been in the meeting the day before, but this information he’d given her had more than made up for it this morning.

“As awkward as this is, it is still a pleasure to meet you,” he returned with a crooked grin that he turned towards the Herald once he had straightened up. “I see that you and your sister have a lot in common, Herald.”

“Evelyn,” she said suddenly, inspired to make this man a friend. She had no idea where the feeling came from, but it was much the same with the Seeker, Leliana, and Josephine. She had made progress with the Seeker and Leliana, she just had to make effort with Cullen and Josephine. “Please, in small company, just Evelyn is fine, Commander.”

Cullen dipped his head forward. “As you say, Evelyn. Then henceforth in small company, it is Cullen to you.”

“It is only fair, I do agree. I suppose we shall be ready leave to less than an hour hence, make sure that Solas, the Seeker, and Varric are ready, as well?”

Cullen pulled his fist across his chest in a salute and turned to go. “Safe travels, Evelyn. May the Maker guide you justly.”

“Thank you, Cullen.” The door closed behind him, and Evelyn turned back around to look at Sera, who had fallen back onto the bed, arms over her face. “You sure you want to come along? You can sleep in, if you don’t,” Evelyn offered Sera one last chance to back out.

Sera removed her arms from her face and gave the Herald a grin. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. I’d be mad by the time you came back, stuck in this snow pit. Come on, let’s get to walking.”

  
Hours later saw them stopped for a break, breaking bread and cheese beneath a tall tree just off the path south. Evelyn still hadn’t asked Varric about Ellen, but everyone had noticed a certain frostiness from the Herald towards the dwarf, who had tried to have conversation with her all day. The Seeker had even made it a point to walk behind the group, pulling Evelyn back with her to ask if she were all right. Evelyn had assured Cassandra that she was fine, just had things on her mind. She had seen the way that the woman glanced towards Sera skipping along at the front of the group, knowing that Cassandra somehow knew the two spent the night together, therefore assuming Sera was what was on Evelyn’s mind. Evelyn wished that were the case. Instead she was planning on how to approach Varric with the questions about Ellen, and the only thing she had decided was that she would volunteer herself to keep first watch with him that night, giving them the privacy to talk.

Sera was seated beside her, eating her cheese right off the block given to her without breaking it apart like most people would. The imp had not poked Evelyn into conversation today, letting her brood quietly as she was the only one on the trip that knew the cause for it. Evelyn appreciated the courtesy, and used the silence to help sort through her anger at Varric so that she wouldn’t actually kill him… maybe just rough him up a bit. A nudge from Sera brought her into reality, and the elf held her wineskin out to Evelyn. Evelyn nodded her thanks and took a sip, pleasantly surprised to feel the burn of sour whiskey roll down her throat instead of water or sweet wine. Sera met her eyes with a wink, and Evelyn fought the urge to kiss the girl for her thoughtfulness. She instead just gave her a really big smile and a nudge back before passing the skin back to her.

“There was this baddie,” Sera said lowly, drawing Evelyn’s attention alone to her, as everyone else was too busy stuffing their faces. “It was one of my first jobs as a Jenny. I was supposed to break in his house, steal some robe, and pass it back to my client. They didn’t tell me he was a friggin’ mage.”

“Is this why you’re scared of magic?” Evelyn asked softly, and Sera gave a nod. “What happened? What did he do?”

“He caught me. Burned my clothes off, tried stuff with me for a couple days. Only reason I got away is because he got cocky and lost his focus on me, didn’t think I was smart enough to get free. I ran, left him alive because I hadn’t killed anyone, yet, didn’t know I had it in me. But it scared me. I don’t think I could have killed him even if I tried. He killed another Jenny after that, and the client never got the robe. It was still an open contract that no one would take.” She shook her head, eyes far away, but then she came back, that grin tugging at her lips. “Jennies aren’t a bunch of loony assassins, like some people.”

Evelyn’s mouth dropped open at the jibe, and she couldn’t help the laugh that broke free. “That’s the second time you’ve called me loony since we met. Is this going to become a thing? You call me loony for everything I do?” She knew Sera was deflecting the conversation, but she let her. She hoped one day the girl would really open up about her past, but she was content with what Sera did offer her, and wouldn’t dare push for more. She would earn Sera’s trust.

“It’s not a thing if it’s true, Herald,” Sera giggled, sipping her whiskey. “But it ain’t a bad thing, yeah? I like it.”

Evelyn chuckled, shaking her head at the elf as she had done so often since their introduction. The girl was strange, but it was refreshing, and the elf seemed to get her without even really knowing her. It was like the Maker had sent someone to ease her strain and give her some sun in her darkest days. The thought was comforting.

“Not all mages are like that, you know,” Evelyn pointed out gently, and Sera made a face, wrinkling her nose up in Solas’ direction.

“Baldy seems all right, even if he is a nosy gobsucker.” Evelyn gave a snort of laughter as Solas shot a look to kill in Sera’s direction, obviously having heard everything they’d said with his keen elven ears. Sera knew he could hear, having the same sense level as he, so that last bit was obviously said more for his benefit than Evelyn’s.

“Solas is fine,” Evelyn said, giving the man a disarming smile. He was smart and had proven he could be funny when he cared to be. Evelyn appreciated his input on the arcane, and respected him as a hedge mage, one that walked the Fade as he did the world. The stories he’d shared with her of his travels through the Fade, and the things the spirits had shown him had fascinated Evelyn, and they had spent nearly a week every night by the fire, Solas sharing his tales while she, Varric, and Cassandra listened. But the stories had stopped the last few nights on the way back to Haven from the capital, and Solas had seemed even more withdrawn since. Evelyn just didn’t know why.

“I say we head straight for Redcliffe Farms and get the mounts from Dennet,” Varric grumbled as they packed up the remaining food a few minutes later. “My legs are killing me, trying to keep up with you long-legged bastards.”

_Your legs are going to have to get in line, if you lie to me tonight, Varric Tethras._

“We’ll have to make camp at least twice before we get that far in,” Cassandra disagreed, shaking her head. “We have roughly five hours left of daylight, and it is more than a day’s travel hence.”

Varric sighed, reaching back to make sure his beloved crossbow was firmly secured to him. “Everything worth a fight, gets a fight, I suppose.”

“Agreed,” Evelyn said, thinking about the pending conversation the dwarf had no idea was coming.

_Oh, the irony, Varric. The irony._

The opportunity took eons to arise. No one seemed to want to go to bed and leave Varric and Evelyn alone by the fire. Solas in particular was the last to finally bed himself down, leaving just the two of them at long last. She had purposefully placed herself at his side hours ago, neither of them moving while conversing with the rest of the group, so he still remained close on her right side. She reached below her jacket and loosened the clasp on her left side dagger, Varric none the wiser on her other side. He would speak the truth tonight or lose his lying tongue. Evelyn was determined. She inhaled a deep breath through her nose, and by the time she exhaled, she was straddled across the dwarf’s lap with his ponytail in one hand to expose his neck, and the other with her dagger pressed below his chin.

“What--?!” His face went ghost white and his pupils dilated in fear.

“Shut up,” Evelyn hissed through clenched teeth, pressing down a little harder against his throat. “Ellen Trevelyan. Where is she?”

“I don’t know who--”

“Don’t. Lie. To. Me,” Evelyn growled, leaning close to his face. “You knew her in Kirkwall. Bethany Hawke’s lover, I’m told.”

Varric’s eyes widened even more than they were, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down against Evelyn’s blade as he swallowed hard. “Cloudy,” he croaked. “I didn’t know her last name, I swear it. Never laid eyes on the girl until the shit hit the fan when Anders’ crazy ass blew up the Chantry.”

Evelyn stared at him without removing her blade, trying hard to detect a lie in his voice but hearing none. She still didn’t release him. “Where is she now?”

“I don’t know. She got on the boat with Hawke and everyone else that left. I waved goodbye from the docks with the guard captain while the city burned down behind us.”

Evelyn let go of his hair and pulled her blade back, resuming her previous position beside him, while Varric coughed and rubbed his throat. “Shit, Herald,” he said roughly, scowling at her. “You could have just asked me, you know. Is this what’s been up your ass all day?”

“Yes. Cullen told me this morning that my sister was in Kirkwall when the rebellion began, and that she survived. Last he saw her was when he allowed you and your friends to escape.”

“She was a mage Sunshine met in the Circle, they didn’t get out much to socialize,” Varric said, reaching for his wineskin, not taking his eyes off Evelyn after that. “I called her Cloudy because she had lightning coming out of her ass in a fight, and it fit well with Sunshine.”

“Sunshine is Bethany, I take it?”

“Yeah. I got to know Sunshine the first few years they were in Kirkwall, until the templars got her the night we came home from the Deep Roads expedition from hell.”

“Where your brother brought back red lyrium.”

Varric scoffed at the memory, a scowl again on his ruggedly handsome face. “Yeah, that shit.”

Evelyn was quiet for a minute, then she sighed. “I’m sorry, Varric. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t lie to me when I asked. I haven’t seen her since she was taken, and haven’t heard any word about her since the Circles fell. She’s my twin.”

Varric looked over at Evelyn, his dark eyes scanning her in the fire light. “I see now,” he murmured, nodding to himself. “She has short hair, like the Seeker’s, and her face isn’t as round as yours, but the eyes are exactly the same. Bright green. She has a scar across one eye, though.”

“I probably wouldn’t recognize her if I saw her,” Evelyn said sadly, throwing a twig into the flames. “I wonder if she would recognize me?”

“Sunshine always said that she felt a piece of her die when Carver did,” Varric said after a moment. “She called it a twin thing. I’m sure you and Cloudy would know each other, Herald.”

“Bethany is a twin?”

“Do you not read my books?” Varric put on a pouty face that Evelyn had to laugh at for it was ridiculous to see.

“I must admit, I have not. The tale of Hawke reached my ears through tavern talk, nothing more.”

Varric chuckled, sipping his wineskin again before offering it to Evelyn. “Careful, it’s not water,” he warned her, and she gave him a grateful smile before taking a nip out what was a pleasantly warm brandy. “Carver didn’t make it to Kirkwall with his family. He was killed by darkspawn before they left Ferelden.”

“That’s horrible,” Evelyn said sadly, thinking that at least her sister was still out there somewhere, and that she was lucky in that regard. “I feel bad for Bethany.”

“She’s all right,” Varric said soothingly. “She’s a fighter, just like her sister. The Hawkes are a tough bunch. And if you saw Cloudy fight her skinny ass off like I did, you wouldn’t worry about her. Between her and Sunshine, I’d feel sorry for anyone that would try to hurt one or the other.”

Evelyn grinned at that, thinking that the pair sounded worth each other, at the very least. “So, the two of them were serious with each other?”

Varric gave a shrug. “I don’t really know. But if Rivaini let your sister on board her precious ship, then I would have to guess that it was, yeah.”

“Remind me I owe the pirate a drink if our paths ever cross,” Evelyn hummed, turning her dagger to and fro in the fire light, watching it glint against the orange glow.

“Oh, she would love that. Likes to drink, pillage, plunder, and rape poor Hawke,” Varric laughed, shaking his head. “Andraste’s sweet knickers, I miss them, Herald. They were more than my friends, you know?”

Evelyn gave a wry grin, thinking about the company she kept these days. “I think I understand what you mean more and more every day.”

Varric nodded sagely. “Crisis has a way of pulling even the most unlikely people together. Take my willingness to stay within arm’s reach of the Seeker, for instance. I must be fucking insane.”

Evelyn laughed at that, completely understanding how it felt to be on the wrong end of Cassandra’s famous temper. “She’s a good person, though,” Evelyn pointed out. “She means well, she truly does. I’m rather fond of her, really, and there is no one I’d rather have fight by my side. She’s a stone wall.”

“Say anymore and I’m going to start thinking you’ve got a crush,” Varric chuckled, taking another swig of his brandy.

“No, no crushing on the Seeker,” Evelyn sighed, thinking about Sera’s face if she’d heard Varric say so. She would have gloated that she was right about the Herald and the Seeker seeming more than what they were. Evelyn’s attentions were more on the spry and funny, rather than solid and stoic, not that solid and stoic wasn’t pretty to look at.

“No time to crush on the Seeker when you spend it all with Buttercup, huh?”

Evelyn’s face shot over to look at him, a smug grin set on his beardless face, his dark eyes twinkling. The little bastard knew. But what the hell? What was the point in hiding it? She had a feeling that when it finally happened, they would be the sort of couple no one could deny, even when she was sure most of the council would have kittens over the fact. A noble born woman with a title like Herald of Andraste, taking up a romance with a base born elven orphan from the alienage in Ferelden’s capital? Scandalous was a light description, but Evelyn found she didn’t really give a shit. Neither she nor Sera were exactly the shy type when it came to what people thought about them, and she’d be damned if that changed with a fucking title she didn’t even ask for nor desire.

So instead of arguing and lying to him, she gave a slight nod. Varric nodded back, pleased with himself for seeing it. “Is it that obvious?” Evelyn asked him. “Or is it your writer’s fancy, studying everyone around you to design their character in another one of your tales of heroes?”

“Both,” he said honestly, and Evelyn scoffed at herself, wondering if she looked the part of a child finding it’s first interest in another. “Look at it this way, Herald,” he said in a light tone, “every good story has a romance, and someone has to be it. It won’t be me, and it won’t be the Seeker. We aren’t the protagonist. You are. So guess whose romance gets the page space?”

“What makes you so sure you’ll even get a story? What if all you get is, ‘Girl fell out of the sky, fought some stuff, met a girl and liked her, went and made whoopee with mages, tried to seal a giant fucking hole in the sky, got fried, now she’s dead’?”

Varric laughed, a nice rumbling laugh in his chest. Evelyn liked it. She was certainly glad she didn’t have to kill the dwarf. “Herald, that’s not how these things work. It is never that simple. There is always more to the story than what we see. The breach isn’t the end of this shit, it’s just a beginning. I hate to break it to you.”

Evelyn closed her fist and opened it, looking down at the mark as she so often did at night, when the glow was unavoidable without wearing her glove. She knew he was probably right. It often times happened that when you solve one problem, something bigger appears. She could only pray that it indeed did not get too much worse than it already was. She hated to try to imagine what horror would have to take place to be a bigger problem for the Inquisition than a giant fucking hole in the sky.

“Well, if I’m the protagonist, I truly hope I have the most boring tale of them all. I was never a fan of too much work. I prefer cards, whiskey, and women.”

“I’ll drink to that, Herald,” Varric said, raising his wineskin in a one-man toast. “May we have many nights of cards, whiskey, and women.”

“Just the one woman for me, I think,” Evelyn said with a small smile, finally placing her dagger back in her rib sheath and clasping it tightly. “She seems like the no sharing type, and I wouldn’t want to push my luck.”

“You definitely have your hands full. She’s spunky. I’m a one woman sort, too. Bianca is my only love.” He reached back and patted the crossbow affectionately, a dreamy look on his face.

Evelyn raised her eyebrow with a short laugh, but the dwarf didn’t elaborate, so she asked him. “Okay, what’s the story with the crossbow?”

“I beat a Hurlock to death with a rock in an ancient thaig in the Deep Roads,” Varric boasted, puffing his hairy chest out. “He had this beauty on his back. We’ve been inseparable since, like you and Buttercup.”

“Okay, now tell me what really happened.” Evelyn knew he was full of shit, and was proven right when the dwarf laughed.

“She’s a one of a kind, literally. I get her upgrades and make her shiny, sometimes, but the original design remains intact. She likes it when daddy gets her new parts.”

Evelyn shook her head at the strange way he talked about the crossbow like it were a real woman. “So, why the name Bianca?”

Varric shrugged. “Why not?” he returned rhetorically, and Evelyn nodded, conceding his point. “You don’t name your blades?”

Evelyn shook her head. “Not after I lost a pair that were sentimental to me. I never know when I’ll lose them, so I don’t get attached like I used to,” she told him, and he nodded. “But even they were named for something special,” she added, giving him a pointed look, to which he gave a sort of pained face. “Who was she?”

Varric grunted, taking a really long chug from his brandy, wiping his mouth on his arm when he was done. “That’s the one story I’ll never tell.”

“I can respect that,” Evelyn said, reaching for a stick to poke at the fire, which was starting to burn low.

“Thanks, Herald,” Varric said, grateful she didn’t push the subject.

“Call me Evelyn, please. I get sick of hearing that title, especially when I’m having conversation with people I consider a friend.”

“You certainly have a unique way of making friends, considering your dagger at my throat earlier,” Varric said with a grin in her direction, no ire behind his words.

“The fact that I asked you about it before opening your throat and pulling your tongue out through your larynx with my bare hands speaks for itself,” Evelyn said in her defense, her eyes laughing at him.

“Fair point. I will definitely try not to piss you off again, that’s for sure. I couldn’t spread the good works of the Inquisition without a tongue, now could I?”

A scuffle from behind them caught their attention, and they both went for the weapons at the same time only to see Cassandra coming out of the tent she was sharing with Sera. “It would certainly be a lot quieter at night if you did not possess a tongue,” she said crankily, coming to the fire and sitting down across from them, legs tucked to the side.

“Good morning to you, too, Seeker,” Varric said cheerfully, making the woman scoff, but she did not say anything venomous back to him for once.

Evelyn pushed herself to her feet, knowing that Cassandra was there to relieve her of watch, her four hours being up. She was excited to go crawl beneath the pelts with Sera, something she’d wanted to do from the start, but getting that information out of Varric was more important. “See you guys in a few hours, I guess. I’m going to sleep.”

“Sera has pulled your bedrolls together,” Cassandra said baldly, looking up at Evelyn with a squint to her eyes. “Is there something we should know, Herald?”

Evelyn gave her an innocent look, laying her hands open palms up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Seeker.” It was hard to keep the smile off her face while she played stupid, and the Seeker just shook her head. She received her answer without Evelyn saying a thing.

“Rest well, Herald,” Cassandra said wearily, and Evelyn sighed deeply at the title sounding in her ears once again.

“Seeker, please, when it’s just the few of us, call me Evelyn.”

A silent struggle fought across Cassandra’s face in the fire light, like she was mentally tasting the name and not liking the flavor. “All right… Evelyn.”

“Thank you, Seeker,” Evelyn breathed, relieved that she was finally making head way with those she spoke with most. Maybe she could completely cut out the use of titles within the small group at the top of the Inquisition, at the very least.

“Cassandra,” the Seeker corrected, one side of her mouth tugging up. “If we are doing this, we may as well go the whole way, no?”

“Isn’t this just the sweetest,” Varric said mockingly, fluttering his eyelashes at Evelyn. “You sure about that crush on Buttercup, Sharps?”

Evelyn merely gave him a finger with a polite smile, making Cassandra cough to cover her laugh. “Sharps?” Evelyn said aloud, trying the nickname out and finding she liked it.

“I figure if you’re letting us call you by your name, I’d just slap a nickname on there, see how you’d like it.”

“I do, actually,” Evelyn admitted, feeling like she was just one of them again, not some blessed prophet come to deliver them all from imminent destruction.

She gave the two a final wave, turning and walking to the tent as quietly as she could so as not to wake Sera upon entering. She slowly lifted the tent flap, ducking underneath and glancing at the shadow on the ground she knew to be her bedroll and the elf dozing peacefully within it. She let the tent flap close, and untied her boots to loosen them first because her feet were killing her, but she lost her balance and nearly fell all over the place. She thanked the Maker for the quick way she caught herself before she crashed onto the sleeping girl, giving her quite the wake up call as Evelyn was still in full armor.

“Shit,” she cursed in a whisper, easing her jacket off then starting to work on her belt and plate mail. It was nearly impossible to take it off without some clinking and clanking, but she managed to make it as soft as she could.

Finally down to her clothes, she tiptoed over to the bedroll and lifted the pelt, sliding smoothly home beneath it, feeling pleased with herself. She rolled over to where her front was pressed against Sera’s back, and looped an arm around the girl’s waist, pulling her more securely against her, her face automatically seeking the refuge that the scent of Sera’s hair had become. She was surprised when Sera reached a hand back from beneath the pelt and scratched at Evelyn’s hair, giving her pleasurable chills and relaxing her all at once.

“Did you kill him?” came a sleepy whisper in the dark a minute later, and Evelyn shook her head, squeezing the girl around the waist. “Good.” The hand scratching at her hair disappeared back beneath the covers, entwining with Evelyn’s hand instead. “Night, Evelyn.”

“Night, imp.”

She could hear Varric telling Cassandra about what had transpired between them, and heard the rich sound of Cassandra’s appreciative chuckle when he got to the part about her knife at his throat. Evelyn smiled to herself.

_Not all of this is so bad. The Inquisition feels like home._

 


	4. Chapter 4

The next few days were a blur. Evelyn stayed moving, still without horses, as the problems they came across enroute to the farm needed immediate attention. People were being forced from their homes in the wake of unending fighting between the templars and the mages, and in result were starving and freezing, most of them in makeshift tents of old blankets and skins. The Inquisition had forces stationed in the Crossroads, seeing to the needs of the refugees as best as they were able, but Evelyn herself felt the need to bodily help, as well. She and her company hunted down rams for meat and skins, and tagged several mage supply caches that a soldier had given her a tip on. Cutting the mages’ supplies was a big help in taming that threat when they finally had no choice but to track down the source of the problem and eliminate the leaders of the crazed mages, and clean out the encampment of rogue templars the next day. By her sixth day in the Hinterlands, Evelyn felt like she was dying of exhaustion and there was still no time to rest.

They had just come up on a patch of land that was suitable for a camp, nestled by the end of Lake Luthias. The water was clean, and all would be able to bathe, a luxury that none of them had since their fifth day of travel away from Haven, nearly a week before. But before Evelyn could even take her pack from her shoulders, a sharp pain shot through her left arm, her hand igniting in the way it only did when there was an open rift near by.

“Son of a bitching fucking demons, I’m sick to death of their shit!” Evelyn cussed, gripping her left wrist as if the pressure would alleviate the searing white hot pain. She happened to see Sera’s face pale, and she felt a pang of sympathy for the girl who had only fought a few abominations and was terrified of the prospect of more of them. “Cassandra, you and me in the front. Varric, you up on that overhang, the blighted thing is just below it. Solas, stay close but try to stay hidden and keep us going.”

“Wait, what about me?” Sera said, stepping forward and taking her bow from her back. “You’re not going without me.”

Evelyn winced as another shot of pain went through her, but she didn’t cry out. She studied Sera’s face as she asked her, “Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

Sera’s jaw tightened and she gave the woman a defiant look. “Yeah, I do.”

Evelyn grinned despite the pain in her arm, pointing up to a tree. “I take it you can climb?”

Sera’s face broke into a bright grin. “Hell yeah I can!” And she was off, scurrying up the thick trunk of the tree Evelyn had indicated, disappearing in it’s foliage.

Giving a jerk of her head, Cassandra gave the Herald a grim smile. “Shall we, my friend?” she asked in her heavy accent, and Evelyn grinned at the word “friend”.

“Let us dance with demons again,” she replied cheekily, and Varric laughed at her answer as he waddled up the incline behind them as fast as he could.

The Herald and the Seeker shot off down the embankment, Cassandra giving a mighty war cry as she slapped her shield with the pommel of her sword. The sound made Evelyn’s adrenaline beat that much faster through her veins as she pulled her daggers free simultaneously, ducking beneath the arm of a terror that tried to grapple her immediately. She rolled back around with her momentum, her daggers finding purchase in the creature’s back with an ear-splitting shriek emitting from it as she gave a hard jerk down, opening it’s insides to the air. Black sludge appeared for an instant before the entire being glowed green and became a vapor, being sucked right back into the rift it had come from.

“Back to the Void with the lot of you!” Evelyn yelled, changing her target to the nearest demon, this one a despair demon spitting ice at her. She dodged to the left with a roll, and forced herself into a front hand spring to flip over the damnable thing and flank it, one dagger buried at the back of it’s neck, and the other plunged deeply into it’s side. Unlike the terror, this demon did not fall with the action, and Evelyn felt a moment of fear as it turned around in slow motion and it’s ugly mouth opened, blue mana building at the back of it’s throat for another blast of cold.

_Oh, shit,_ she thought to herself as she tried to evade it’s pending attack, but she realized the thing had it’s claws embedded in the leather beneath her plate mail, it’s nails digging into the skin below, inches deep. _I’m fucked._

But then a spurt of liquid splashed across Evelyn’s face as an arrowhead appeared through one of it’s eye sockets, and the grip on her armor disappeared, leaving her to fall the five feet to the ground. Evelyn watched the demon dissipate into the rift, looking up to the tree where Sera was notching another arrow, her face set like stone, eyes scanning the field below her before letting loose another dead shot, this one on a terror engaged with Cassandra.

Taking the moment given to her by the imp, Evelyn didn’t even stand as she threw her hand up in the air, willing the mark to connect to the rift. She held the connection, the vibration running through her entire being as it did it’s work, sealing the rift against anymore demons that might fall from it, not daring to break eye contact as the vibration raised to a high pitched thrum. Evelyn sprang to her feet with her dagger in her right hand, swinging it as hard as she could, shattering the break in the veil. The ringing silence after the rift was closed was deafening, and Evelyn felt a wave dizziness swirl over her, and she was on the ground looking up at the darkening sky above her before she even realized she’d fallen. The dizziness gave way to nausea, and she heard herself retch, but she didn’t have the strength to turn over, lying there and gagging on her own tongue.

“Herald!” Cassandra’s panicked cry reached her ears as she heard several pairs of feet running towards her, but the sick feeling had taken over to the point she barely processed any of it.

“Turn me over,” she croaked as Cassandra and Solas appeared over her. “Don’t move me, just turn me.”

The two of them did as she asked, and Evelyn gratefully emptied her stomach on the ground, feeling slightly better once she was finished. “Herald, you’re bleeding,” Solas said in concern, moving towards her once she was lying there panting and nothing more.

She felt a hand touch her shoulder, but the touch wasn’t Solas’s. The touch was familiar and warm, and Evelyn found she wanted more of it because it was the best feeling in the world at that moment. “Imp?” she heard herself ask, trying to push herself off the ground to sit up like a dignified person, but failing miserably in her attempt.

“Right here, Herald.” The touch moved to her hair, fingers beginning to comb through the tangles, scratching lightly at the scalp. “Baldy has to take your armor off and heal you, but I ain’t going anywhere.”

Evelyn didn’t even have the strength to make a quip about Sera finally getting to see her without her shirt. She just closed her eyes and let them do whatever, because at that point she couldn’t have stopped them if she wanted. She barely felt the tugging, but when they tried to lift her to take her chest piece and harness off, the motion made her sick again. She projectile vomited, and Cassandra had to jump out of the way at the last second.

* * *

 

“Maker! Solas, is she going to be okay?” Cassandra asked, worried. Evelyn didn’t look so good lying on the ground, pale and sweaty.

“I believe she will be fine. It is likely the cuts causing the nausea, and the fatigue from closing the rift. We should set up camp soon, for once I heal these wounds she will need rest, and a fair bit of it.” Solas pushed back the long sleeves of his robes, rubbing his hands together as if to warm them. A blue hue of light began to shine across his pale hands, then the light shaded to green. He placed them over the cuts from the despair demon’s nails, and Sera gasped as the skin around them lit red and Evelyn groaned into her lap where her head rested.

“Are you hurtin’ her?” Sera demanded hotly, and Cassandra quickly put a hand on her shoulder to try to calm her so she wouldn’t break Solas’s concentration.

“Sera, it is fine,” Cassandra said lowly, and though she didn’t say anything else, Sera did not take her eyes off of the mage. “He is helping, see?”

The cuts had also faded to green, and were slowly closing, leaving nothing more than dark pink strips of scars across Evelyn’s pale skinned torso, scars that Sera automatically wanted to bend forward and press her lips to. “I’m afraid there’s nothing that can be done for the scarring, but she is well on the mend and the vomiting should pass,” Solas said passively, rising to his feet from his kneeled position. “Dwarf, we should see to camp and some food. Let them tend to the Herald while she sleeps.”

Varric made a gesture with his hand for the elf to follow, and the two men walked back to where they had dropped their gear before the fight. Sera looked up at Cassandra, making a gesture at Evelyn’s half naked state in the chill of the night air. “Should get her pack and put somethin’ on her, yeah?”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.”

Once she was alone with Evelyn lying in her lap, Sera looked back down at her sleeping face, mouth partly open, completely slack-jawed. She giggled at the silliness of the expression, but didn’t miss the way it made her feel fuzzy inside. She bit her lip, feeling a smidgen guilty when she let her eyes slide down Evelyn’s exposed abdomen not for the first time since they peeled her out of her armor.

“Well fit,” she murmured appreciatively, eyes roving over the muscles that rippled down her body and disappeared under her breeches. She couldn’t wait to touch them one day, maybe even find out what was hidden past the buckle of her belt and in those tight leather pants. She hadn’t ever been this attracted to someone, drove her nuts, a bit. But if the Herald was what Sera felt like she could be, she would definitely hang around to find out how this would play out.

But for now, she touched the Herald’s pretty face with its slender noble nose, long eyelashes, and perfect mouth. Sera stared at Evelyn’s mouth a lot, especially when she spoke. She liked the accent from the Free Marches and liked the smart words she used. _Ass-toot._ She snickered to herself, shaking her head.

She was almost disappointed once Cassandra had returned with a long sleeved tunic to dress Evelyn in before they carried her back to where Solas and Varric were making camp. They had put up the tent that the three women shared first, and Sera quickly made the bedroll for the two of them while Cassandra held the Herald, still passed slap out. One Sera had finished, Cassandra stooped to gently place her on the pallet of pelts, Sera already working on taking off Evelyn’s boots.

“Should we strip her pants?” Cassandra asked, and Sera snickered, shaking her head.

“No, she’d freak. She sleeps completely clothed.”

Cassandra gave her a quizzical look, having spent most of her time knowing Evelyn sharing a tent with her, and seeing her bed down in her smalls. “Since when?”

That gave Sera a pause. “Dunno,” she finally said with a shrug. “Just been like that since we cuddled the first time.”

Cassandra gave her a strange look that suddenly made the elf very self-conscious. “What?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest, looking at anything that wasn’t the Seeker.

“Cuddled? You pull your bedrolls together to cuddle, fully clothed?”

Sera gave the Seeker a lecherous smirk. “Why, Seeker? You imagine that she puts her shiny hand down my pants and up my--”

Cassandra nearly gagged as she ran away from the tent, leaving Sera to peals of laughter she wished Evelyn had been awake to see. She likes a good laugh, should get her in on some pranks, she’d like that, too.

_Maybe I can finally get a friggin’ kiss or something, sheesh._

She wasn’t sleepy so much as physically beat and drained, so she merely pulled off her boots and slid under the pelts with Evelyn. She pulled Evelyn’s head towards her chest, surprised when Evelyn readjusted herself to fit completely against her, an arm coming across her belly.

_Her shiny hand… Shiny. She_ is _Shiny, in lots of ways. I like that._

“Shiny?” Sera whispered, trying out the pet name, finally settling on one that was better than “Harry”, which Evelyn had vetoed right away. A drunken joke or not, Evelyn had shot it down like she'd had an arrow on a string and let it go.

There was no response, and Sera grinned to herself that Evelyn had apparently become accustomed to their arrangement. She idly started playing with Evelyn’s hair again, thinking for the hundredth time about how soft it was, even dirty as it was. But hell, all of them were dirty, weren’t they? All plans for an evening bath were ruined by arse-spittin’ demons.

_Stupid nug-humpers. Could’ve talked her into bathing with me._

* * *

 

Evelyn had never been so warm. It was like she lying in a pile of feathers like the mattress in her childhood chambers, back in Ostwick. It was like a floaty feeling, incredibly fuzzy and it even had a slight drum beat that lulled her senses in and out of slumber. But something was poking into her hip, something sharp, and the dull ache it gave her was starting to seep through the warm feeling, pulling her back from whatever precipice of slumber to which she might have succumbed.

She groaned, using every ounce of her will power to shift her hips away from whatever was causing her discomfort. She heard a gasp near her ear, and felt arms tighten around her, and she finally pried her eyes open in curiosity. There was a familiar red smock in her view, with just a hint of cleavage below the neckline. Her arm and leg were thrown over Sera, her thigh settled over the elf’s lap and her arm around her middle. Sera was holding her with both arms, and Evelyn realized the drum beat from her dream was in reality Sera’s heart beat beneath her right ear, which had picked up pace since Evelyn moved.

“Easy there, Shiny,” Sera said softly, her breath catching a bit in her throat. “Your leg is in a sweet spot, don’t move around so much down there, yeah?”

Evelyn lifted her head and looked down, seeing her knee nestled directly against a place it shouldn’t be touching, yet. “Maker’s balls, I’m sorry,” she said, her voice raspy. She coughed against the tickle in her throat as she moved her leg away from Sera’s lap, trying to sit up.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to be movin’ around like that,” Sera reprimanded her, gently holding her upper arm to keep her from trying to rise to her feet. “Stay here, I’ll get you some water.”

“It’s hot as fuck in here,” Evelyn said to herself, realizing all at once she was dying in her shirt. She ripped the tunic up over her head and threw it across the tent as Sera left the tent to find a flask of water for her. She untied the leather ties at the top of her pants and peeled them down her legs, throwing them the same direction she’d thrown her shirt, no fucks given who saw what. The cold air felt like heaven on her skin, and she gave a big sigh of relief.

* * *

 

Sera came back to the tent with a water flask in her hand and Solas at her heels, ready to check the Herald over before retiring before his watch. When she opened the tent flap and saw Evelyn sprawled out spread eagle on top of the pelts in nothing but her smalls, she did an about-face, pushing Solas away from the tent. “Hold on, let me go in first, I’ll tell you when it’s okay to come in,” she told him, not caring about the impatient look that flashed across his ridiculous face with it’s stupid butt chin.

Sera went in alone, the flask in her hand. “Shiny, why are you naked?” She ignored the scoff from Solas outside the tent with an eye roll. He had it bad for the Herald, Sera saw the signs of jealousy.

“I’m not,” Evelyn said petulantly, taking the water flask Sera handed her, sitting up to drink some. “It’s hot in here.”

“I’ll say,” Sera muttered, thinking about the grinding of Evelyn’s knee into her crotch a minute earlier. She thought she was going to die, because if she hadn’t woken her up and Evelyn went on moving like that, she would have. Her eyes were now surveying very nearly everything Evelyn had, and not finding herself displeased in the slightest bit. _Those thighs… yum._

“Baldy is outside, wants to look you over,” Sera said aloud instead, still getting her eye full.

“Look me over like you’re doing now?” Evelyn said with a quirk to one side of her mouth and an eyebrow raised.

_Busted._ “Hey, _you’re_ the one that decided the fully clothed in front of me thing wasn’t a thing, anymore.” Sera looked back towards the tent flap where Solas stood waiting and said pointedly, “But Baldy ought not look at you like I do, if he likes his eyes without arrows in them.”

“Not all of us are depraved degenerates, _da’len_ ,” Solas called back with a touch of venom in his tone.

“Sod off, weirdo,” Sera muttered darkly, not knowing exactly what he meant but knowing it wasn’t a compliment to her. “Could you just get under the pelt long enough to let him check on you, Shiny?”

Evelyn made a face, really not wanting to go back under the sweat lodge she’d only just escaped, but she saw the confliction in Sera about Solas seeing her in her nothing but her smalls, and to be honest she didn’t care for the thought of being exposed to him, either. She scooted back and lifted the edge of the top pelt, sitting crossed-legged beneath it with pulled across her lap, making an impatient gesture at the door.

“Come in, Baldy,” Sera called, not making a move to exit the tent. She had no intentions of leaving him alone with her. She had already laid claim in her head, and no one else was gonna come along and snatch her away. _Not without arrows in arses, anyway._

“Herald,” Solas greeted with a nod, ignoring Sera’s presence completely. “How are you feeling?”

“Hot,” was all she said, and he put a hand to her forehead.

“Your fever has broken. I think your temperature will center itself after a cooling period. How are your sides?”

Evelyn made a face again. She’d obviously forgotten about that. She felt around where the demon’s claws had cut her, feeling the raised scars but her face showed no pain. “They’re fine. I’ll have to see the scars with the sunrise, I’m sure a few candles would not do them justice.”

_No, because they’re friggin' sexy,_ Sera thought to herself, still appreciating the new skin she was seeing from the Herald. There were other scars, but these in particular were her favorites because she saved her life from the thing that had caused them. Sera had saved the Herald.

“I’d like it if you’d rest the day tomorrow,” Solas said, and Sera smirked. She knew the Herald would be going stir crazy by midday.

“Why? I’m fine,” Evelyn argued, her brow knitting together.

_You tell 'im, Shiny. That's my girl._

“Yes, but there is still bruising and the like that must mend in time. Taking it easy tomorrow will speed up that process. You should be hale and ready to fight the next day.” Solas didn’t budge his stance, even under the scrutiny he felt from both women in the dimly lit tent.

“Maker’s saggy balls! Are you serious, Solas?” Evelyn groaned, covering her face with both hands, falling back onto the bedroll.

“Quite, Herald,” he said shortly, giving a curt nod. “Now I must rest before it is my turn to keep watch. The Seeker will be in shortly, she should bring you some broth. Rest well.”

“Not bloody likely,” Evelyn said sulkily, crossing her arms over her chest as Solas left the tent, leaving her alone with Sera once more. As soon as he had completely disappeared, Evelyn whipped the pelt back off, making it hard for Sera not to grin at the sight. Evelyn didn’t miss her expression. “I’m glad one of us is getting some enjoyment from this.”

“Not a bad view, Shiny.”

“Shiny, huh? That’s funny. The hand, I take it?” She laughed when Sera merely gave her a playful wink. “Do you have first watch?”

Sera shook her head. “Nah, there’s like five soldiers that joined us after you passed out. One of us at a time is staying up with them, but I’m off the hook tonight. It’s Cass and Baldy.”

Sera watched Evelyn’s face flicker with the news, and it made her curious what that was about. “Then why are you still standing there? Come here, imp,” Evelyn said, patting the space beside her.

Sera felt that little melty feeling she got when Evelyn called her an imp, and was powerless to stop her feet from moving forward even if she had wanted them to. She only hesitated when she went to get beneath the pelt, wondering if her hands could help themselves from wandering while Evelyn wore next nothing beside her, close together as they tended to be when in bed. Evelyn was giving her a peculiar look that made every hair on her body tingle, and Sera nearly jumped out of her skin when Cassandra’s voice appeared out of nowhere.

“Are you well, Herald?” the Seeker asked, ducking her tall frame under the flap, a bowl of steaming broth in her hands.

“I’m fine, Cassandra, thank you,” Evelyn said with a grateful smile as the Seeker came further in to hand off the bowl. “I apologize that I wasn’t quick enough to get away. If Sera hadn’t shot it just in time, the damn thing might have dragged me to the Black City with it.”

“It was an impressive hit, I agree,” Cassandra said, turning her eyes onto Sera, who was trying to shrink beneath the pelt, feeling like Cassandra could see every dirty thing that was just running through her head when the woman appeared.

“Wasn’t about to let it have her,” Sera mumbled, blushing under the praise.

“Not when you haven’t had me, yet, huh?” Evelyn teased, making the Seeker scoff lightly, shaking her head.

“You two are either insufferable or adorable, I have not decided which. Good eve, I’ll leave you to it.” Cassandra made a quick exit before either of the two could respond, leaving them both in giggles. It was clear that their friendship and their banter made the Seeker uncomfortable, having never really entertained the thought of having anything like what they had with another woman. Sera thought Cassandra was built to be a perfect top, but the woman was too tied to tradition and what was expected of her, so she didn’t think it would ever come to pass that Cassandra would see that glorious potential she possessed.

  
Evelyn set the bowl of broth far from her bedroll, not having an appetite at all for the moment. She settled back down and pulled the pelt back over her legs, moving over to where she against Sera, who shifted and laid back, accepting the way Evelyn’s arms pulled her into her chest. Evelyn was quiet for a moment, thinking about the way the girl had saved her skin that day, all due to her overconfidence. Then she noticed how scratchy the material of Sera’s smock and scarf was against her bare flesh, and her face heated at the thought of asking Sera to take them off, as they would be alone for hours yet. Her pulse fell into her vagina at the thought of having her skin against the elf’s, especially with the thank you she had in mind to give the elf for saving her life.

“Sera?” Evelyn whispered, lifting her head to look at her.

“Yeah?” Sera whispered back, a tiny smile tugging at her lips.

Evelyn pulled the scarf free, and tugged at her smock. “Take this off, please? I want to feel your skin.”

Sera’s eyes widened, and she sat up quickly, shrugging her way out of the thing and letting it fall to the ground beside her, not missing the way Evelyn’s eyes followed the action. Then she felt Evelyn tug at her tights. “These, too?”

  
Sera’s entire body was pounding as she did as was asked of her, finally settling back down beneath the pelt, feeling electricity crackle across entire body when her skin touched Evelyn’s. Her breath caught, and Evelyn gave a low chuckle, reaching to cup Sera’s jaw, her thumb brushing across her bottom lip. “You beautiful, wonderful girl,” Evelyn whispered, making Sera blush deeply all the way to the tips of her ears. No one had ever said that to her. No one had ever looked at her the way Evelyn was looking at her now, her face seemingly closer than it was a moment before. “Thank you for allowing me this moment. I thought I was a goner.”

“Not if I can put an arrow in it,” Sera breathed back, eyes locked onto the brightest green she’d ever seen with an electric blue around the dilated pupils, aware of the breath ghosting across her mouth, of how close she was.

“May I kiss you?”

Sera’s heart went into overdrive when those words were spoken against her lips, the movement of Evelyn’s mouth forming the words the only thing she could feel other than the beat in her ears nearly deafening her. She didn’t even bother to answer verbally. She pressed her lips to Evelyn’s instead, finally getting something she’d wanted for the better part of a month. It was slow, soft, and it made Sera ache all over, even without any tongue involved. She could feel calloused fingers tracing circles over her jaw line as they kissed, the light touches driving her insane.

It was over too soon.

Evelyn pulled back breathless, searching Sera’s face for any sign of regret, but only seeing a mirror of what she was feeling at the moment, a tug in her gut making her draw her hips closer to the other girl, who whimpered in response to the movement. They couldn’t get carried away, not yet, because Evelyn didn’t want their first time to be in a camp full of people that could hear every noise they made. Sera deserved better. She deserved a bed and enclosed walls, where Evelyn could have her completely. Evelyn’s head was spinning after the kiss, but she hadn’t completely lost her willpower.

“Maker’s breath,” Evelyn sighed at the sensations running through her after just a kiss. Kissing someone had never felt like that for her. It was usually just a forerunner to sex, and then there was no more kissing, just mindless humping. “What the hell are you doing to me, imp?”

“This is _your_ fault. You _knew_ we couldn’t sleep together without friggin’ clothes. Then you go and kiss me like that, all friggin’ charming and shite,” Sera grumbled, letting a hand touch the ripple of muscles down Evelyn’s stomach that she had so greedily eyed earlier. She felt them move beneath her finger tips, and Evelyn sucked in a sharp breath before enclosing a hand on Sera’s wrist to stop her.

“You carry on like that and the entire camp is going to know I’m not resting,” Evelyn said huskily, the tone sending more tremors through Sera’s body.

“I don’t care,” Sera said in just as husky a tone, and Evelyn bit her lip, looking at Sera’s mouth again. “I want you.” She pressed her hips forward against Evelyn’s to emphasize what she meant, making Evelyn release her wrist and instead grip her hips, a growl sounding in the human’s throat.

“You’re making this difficult for me,” Evelyn told her, eyes rolling back in her skull as Sera dipped her face beneath her jaw and started placing light kisses across it, up to her ear.

“Good,” the elf chuckled smugly into it, and Evelyn couldn’t take the teasing. She rolled over until she was on top of her, Sera giving a squeal as she ended up pinned by Evelyn’s lower body as she straddled her hips and pressed down to hold her still.

“Really?” Evelyn held herself up above her with her elbows locked, her chestnut colored hair falling down in curtains over her shoulders. “Right here, where everyone can hear every little sigh? Because I promise you, there will be more than sighs. That’s _not_ how I do things.”

“I don’t care.” Sera rolled her hips up into Evelyn, making her gasp but the look she gave Sera was a warning to not continue, despite how nice it felt.

“I do. You’re better than a tavern whore, and I won’t treat you as such. I want to be truly alone with you the first time, my imp. Please just trust me, I swear upon everything I hold dear it will be worth your wait.”

_She’s killin’ me, Andraste’s bloody fucking knickers,_ Sera thought to herself, biting her lip as she let her eyes wander down the body in front of her, thankful for her ability to see in the dark.

“Ha ha, you’re askin’ a lot, Shiny.” Sera did not miss the way Evelyn had called her hers, nor the respect in her voice when she gave her reason for not wanting to go any further than they had so far that night. “Trust is hard to come by in this world.”

Evelyn cupped her face, leaning down to brush her lips against hers, the barest of touches. “I’m willing to earn it, if you’ll let me,” she whispered against Sera’s mouth, sincerity dripping along the words.

_The honey tongue on this one is unreal. Andraste’s floppy bosom, what’d I step in this time?_ Sera swallowed hard with the thought, her throat dry as she truly thought about the implication of Evelyn’s words. This wasn’t just about sex, this was about _them_ , and this magnetic thing between them. She knew her answer would be what would make this real or break it off.

Fingers traveled slowly down Sera’s arm to her hand, intertwining with hers, then Evelyn pulled her hand to her lips, placing kisses across all of her knuckles.

_I’d be a bleedin’ idiot to walk away from this one,_ the elf realized, squeezing her fingers down on Evelyn’s to draw her attention back to her face. “Okay,” she heard herself say. “But I don’t share,” she added in warning, thinking about Solas, and that Antivan tart back in Haven, one just pathetic and the other with a wandering eye when walking behind Evelyn. _I don’t care if it’s pretty to look at, it’s mine now._

Evelyn’s mouth tugged up into a grin, distracting Sera from her thoughts about Josephine. “Nor do I,” she replied, nudging Sera’s nose with her own. “ _My_ imp.”

Sera’s heart tugged in her chest and she reached up to hold Evelyn’s face to hers as she kissed her as she hadn’t kissed her, yet. It was fiery, the same sensation that was inflaming her gut at the moment, overwhelmed at being claimed by Evelyn Trevelyan, of all people.

The arousal from earlier had swirled into a deep seated confirmation: for the first time in her life, she felt home. Their tongues danced together until neither one could breathe, but even as she pulled away Sera left her forehead pressed against Evelyn’s. “If someone told me a month ago that we’d be this, I’d have called him a pissface and thrown a pie at him,” Sera panted, half laughing at the absurdity. The Herald of Andraste, a _noble_ for the love of the Maker. It wasn’t what she saw for herself–ever–but she didn’t care. This feeling with Evelyn was good, was really good.

“Not exactly what I was expecting in my own path, either,” Evelyn agreed, squeezing Sera’s hand. “But no regrets.”

Sera smiled wickedly, briefly kissing Evelyn again, elated she could freely do so now because it helped with the pressure in her chest the woman caused. “Not yet,” she teased, bouncing her eyebrows playfully and making Evelyn laugh as she slid off the elf’s lap and reclined onto her back again. Sera immediately sought a spot on her chest.

“And you say I’m the loony one.” Evelyn pressed her lips to the girl’s forehead, and Sera snuggled down into her chest, making herself a pillow right on top of her breasts beneath their binding.

“Reckon there’s a reason I like it, yeah?” Sera was getting comfortable as was possible on the ground where there was a tree root that ran right beneath their bedroll, grateful for the skin to skin contact.

Evelyn’s smile said it all.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Her day of incarceration wasn’t quite as terrible as she foresaw it to be. There was a lot of time spent kissing Sera, then some lunch in the form of a rabbit stew; a bath in the lake that she had to practically tie Sera to Cassandra to keep her from following her; then more kissing Sera to make up for having them bathe separately. Then Varric came into the tent and they played Wicked Grace with him and Cassandra, who was terrible at the game, considering it was really a test of who could cheat the best.

Once it was dark, Evelyn convinced them that she was fine to sit out by the fire with the growing number of Inquisition soldiers that now occupied the spreading camp. She sat with Sera of course, and Varric had them all rolling on the ground with laughter with one of his Kirkwall stories, this one about Merrill, whom he affectionately called Daisy, the absent-minded blood mage he held in a high regard.

“I’d mess with her so hard if she weren’t a friggin blood mage,” Sera laughed, holding her middle. “I’d take her string, she’d be forever walking in circles!”

“She’s a sight in battle, but otherwise wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Varric swore, taking a sip of what Evelyn suspected to be more of his brandy that she had no idea how he procured. It certainly wasn’t Flissa’s stock.

“A harmless maleficar?” Cassandra said in serious doubt. “No such thing, Varric. You’d do well to remember how quickly the line to abomination is crossed.”

“I was there, Seeker,” Varric muttered darkly, a sour look on his scruffy face. “And it wasn’t Daisy that blew up the Chantry.”

“Yet she was the one that begged for the abomination’s life, is she not?” Cassandra returned sharply, shooting daggers at him with her eyes. “That _is_ what you told me.”

“She argued for more than his life, Seeker. She begged for the violence to end, period. She hates violence of any sort,” Varric argued, leaning forward with his point. “Her choice of spell does not define her person. She’s never used anyone else’s blood without their consent, and wouldn’t. Leave Daisy alone.”

“Not all mages are bloodthirsty murderers,” Evelyn agreed, thinking not only of her sister, but of several old friends that were apostates, and of Solas, who sat quietly but watched the exchange between the warrior and the archer.

“A fat lot are,” Sera spoke up, reliving her own experiences while staring into the flames. “Look at the ones we had to clean up the other day. Half of them friggin’ bustin’ out into demons and shite. They ain’t safe, Shiny. Not even the nice ones.” She shot a contemptuous glance at Solas, who returned it with interest.

“Insolent child,” he muttered, shaking his head at her prejudice.

This was the catch to the elf that was otherwise perfectly well matched to Evelyn. Their views on magic and mages were a big clash. “We’ll just have to agree to disagree on that. I’ve been saved by magic more times than I can count, and I have loved ones that cannot help the gifts they were born with. I won’t speak against them. I cannot.” Evelyn pushed herself to her feet, meaning to get away from what was dangerously toeing the line of an argument between she and Varric, and Cassandra and Sera. “I’ll be right back, I need to clear my head, I think.”

Cassandra gave her a nod, and Sera just shrugged a bit and stared at the flames. Evelyn felt her lips press together at the indifference the girl showed, but she didn’t speak about it. She moved away from the camp into the darkness beyond the circle of light from the few fires that burned across the site, going up the hill towards the lake up on the rise. The night was clear, and she could see the entire sky from the shore of the lake, and see it’s reflection doubled on the glassy surface. The moon was high, the stars were bright and infinite. The breach was there, ominous and glaringly green, taunting her. She sighed at the sky, leaning against a large rock to gaze up at her immediate future. It was so high, so large. How in the hell did they think she was going to manage to close this monster?

A noise echoed from across the water, catching her attention. She saw the light from a window in the inky darkness, and recognized the sound as a man coughing. She eased up from the rock, hands moving down to her hips to touch dagger hilts that weren’t there, as she hadn’t worn her weapons at all that day. Cursing herself for not wearing them out of camp, she resigned to merely sneak around the lake and spy on the man, see what he was doing so far removed from civilization.

_Lake Luthias, Leliana said. Maybe this is the Warden she wanted?_

The lake wasn’t small, but it didn’t take her half an hour to get around it, having to quietly walk through some shallow inlets near the top of it. The distant sound of a waterfall was audible from this side of the lake, but it grew fainter as she walked closer towards the silhouette of a ramshackle cabin, the glow of the light shining like a beacon. She sidled up to the exterior wall, listening closely for any more sounds from him, but hearing nothing. As carefully as she could, she took a side step to the corner of the building, around which was the window she’d seen the light from. She dropped to her haunches and went to slide around the corner beneath the window to peek in, but the distinct and unmistakable ring of a sword leaving it’s sheath stopped her before she even felt the tip pressed between her shoulder blades.

She froze, her hands up in the air. “Good eve,” she greeted cheekily, hoping for a sense of humor from her captor, but the tip pressed harder.

“Who the hell are you?” A gruff, deep voice asked her. _So much for the humor._ She didn’t move, and kept her hands up.

“I’m an agent of the Inquisition,” she said honestly. “We have a camp right across the lake.” _And if I scream, the wrath of the Maker will rain down upon your head in the form of a very pissed off Seeker of Truth._

“Right,” the man said sarcastically, obviously thinking her bluffing. “What are you doing over here, then? Speak the truth.”

“You won’t believe the truth,” she said with a dry chuckle. “It’s too simple.”

“Try me, woman.”

Evelyn took a deep breath. “I’m going to stand up and turn around,” she said slowly, rising to her feet, feeling the blade’s ever present poke between her shoulders. When she turned, the blade was pointed at her jugular by a man with dark hair whose face was hidden by a full and long dark beard to match. “I was having a moment alone after a slight disagreement with my companions, and heard you cough. I had no idea anyone lived in these parts, other than a man I was requested to find. I admit, I was hoping you might be him.”

“What might he be called? And what do you want with him?” There was a cautious curiosity to the man, and the blade dropped just a bit, meaning he heard the truth in her words.

“A Grey Warden called Blackwall. I have questions for him, but only for him.” Evelyn had a strong feeling this man was exactly who Leliana had sent her for.

“Aye,” he said with a sigh, confirming Evelyn’s belief. He sheathed his sword and stood back. “I am Blackwall. How did you know how to find me?”

“Word was that a lone Grey Warden was helping people kill off some bandits below the Crossroads, that he may be around Lake Luthias. I’m certainly glad it was you and not bandits, as I have neglected my weapons at camp.”

“Lost your bloody mind, girl? Sneaking around in the dark unarmed? What does this Inquisition teach you lot?” He shook his head and made a gesture to the door of the cabin. “Come in, ask your questions, agent of the Inquisition.”

* * *

 

It had been nearly full on an hour, and Evelyn still had not returned to camp. Sera had volunteered to take first watch, just to wait up on the Herald, and Solas and Varric had gone to bed. Cassandra still sat across the fire from the elf, her knees drawn up into her chest, her chin resting on the tops. Sera was fidgety. She didn’t like how she let the Herald just walk off by herself, or the fact she had been such an arse about how Evelyn felt. Magic was scary. It could do things to people that arrows and blades couldn’t, things that gave her nightmares and made her never want to sleep again. But that was no reason to be a shite to Shiny. She couldn’t help it her sister was a mage, and that she loved her.

Her foot tapped repeatedly against a rock around the fire pit, and her hands lightly slapped her thighs in a rhythm to match, and she kept glancing off in the direction that Evelyn had disappeared, hoping the woman would wander out of the shadows with that cocky, noble arsehole grin on her gorgeous face. Sera hated that grin, but loved it all at once. She couldn’t explain it, even to herself.

Deciding that her last flask of whiskey was worth a trip to the tent, she got up and went to search in the tent where two candles burned in their holders. Sera grabbed her flask from her pack, but the glint of silver caught her eye as she made to leave the tent. Evelyn’s daggers, all seven of them, were lying beside the bedroll where they had discarded them the previous day. Something inside of Sera went cold.

“Cass!” Sera bolted back out to the fire where Cassandra sat, looking up in alarm at Sera’s tone. “Shiny–she’s not got a knife at all. She’s been gone forever. We should go look for her.”

Cassandra looked doubtful, glancing the way Evelyn had gone and back to Sera. “I don’t know, she seemed upset with us,” the Seeker began in a reluctant tone, but Sera shook her head adamantly, plowing right over whatever else the Seeker might have said.

“No, I know she was, but she ain’t armed! And she said she’d be right back. Right back ain’t hours, Cass,” Sera pleaded, a bad feeling in her stomach. “I’m goin’ whether you go or not.” She stomped off in the direction Evelyn had walked, and was pleased when she heard Cassandra groan and then heavy footsteps fall in behind her.

The two women made their way up the same hill that Evelyn had trekked, and Sera used her ears to catch a sound that did not belong on the lake. She could hear Cassandra’s even breathing behind her, and the gentle lap of the water licking at the shore. She could hear a nug squeaking somewhere nearby, and a waterfall somewhere off in the distance. Then her eyes saw what her ears would not catch: a light across the lake. As soon as she noticed it, she heard a man’s booming laugh, making her ears twitch when she heard a familiar laugh beneath his. Evelyn was fine, laughing across the lake with a strange man, unarmed.

_If he doesn’t kill her, I just might, worrying me like that._ Sera seethed a little, turning around and looking at Cassandra, jerking her head towards the light across the water from them.

“She’s there, I hear her laughing. Let’s go see what’s so funny.”

“You can hear her laugh from over here?” Cassandra said in disbelief, following her when she set off at a determined pace around the lake. “Never ceases to fascinate me.”

“The elf thing, better hearing?” Sera muttered back, hating to admit that out loud and hear Cassandra make a noise of agreement. “The size of our ears has to count for somethin’, yeah? We see better at night than humans, too.”

They made their way around to the other side in the same path that Evelyn had taken, only with Sera’s eyes and ears guiding them. Sera slowed up once they drew close, but Cassandra barreled onwards, even going as far as pulling her sword. Sera stood back with one hand on her bow across her back, watching as Cassandra lifted the fist not gripping her pommel and banged it on the door loudly.

“I am Cassandra Pentaghast, agent of the Inquisition! I demand audience with—” The Seeker’s speech was cut off by the door opening with a grinning Evelyn standing there, the light behind her spilling out into the yard before her. The Seeker’s face was shocked to see her hale and whole, and she quickly stepped back. “Herald, you’re all right,” she said, relieved.

* * *

 

“I missed you, too, Cassandra,” Evelyn greeted her, nodding her head. “I was handling Inquisition business from our dear Nightingale.”

Sera’s face lit up with recognition as Cassandra’s frown deepened. She had not been told of any business that pertained directly to Leliana. Evelyn’s eyes finally traveled past Cassandra and landed on Sera behind her, her smile hitching up again. Sera didn’t return it, still pissed off that the woman disappeared with no warning.   
  
“Warden Blackwall, my associate, Seeker Pentaghast, and my imp, Sera.” Evelyn said, stepping out of the cabin followed by a large, hairy man. Sera felt herself retch a little inside at the sight of all that hair. It was everywhere, like Evelyn had gone and ran right into a human bear. “The Warden has graciously answered the questions I had for him, so I now wish to leave him in peace. Shall we go back to camp?”

Evelyn drew even with Sera, who glowered at her before the elf turned and stalked away without her. Evelyn sighed deeply, shaking her head, and began to follow before a call from Blackwall halted her steps.

“Wait! Inquisition!” He ran to meet up with Evelyn and Cassandra as they turned back. “I don’t know where the other wardens have gone, but I agree it is fishy and I‘d like to investigate. And I hear good things about your work, and I’d like to help, if you’ll have me.”

Evelyn looked at Cassandra, who gave a nod. “I think we can take any warrior that wants to wield a sword in the name of order,” Cassandra said to Evelyn, who nodded in total agreement.

“Ser Blackwall, welcome to the Inquisition.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut incoming, you have been warned.

Sera was back beside the camp fire when Evelyn arrived back with Cassandra, who nudged Evelyn lightly and gave a nod towards the elf before going into their tent. Ser Blackwall had agreed to meet them at their camp come sunrise, and Evelyn felt a bit of the weight on her shoulders ease at the acquisition of a Grey Warden for their ranks. Grey Wardens came with treaties, treaties he offered the Inquisition to use in his name, and Evelyn and Cassandra both had been speechless with how well it worked out for them. But now the real challenge happened. She had to face a pissed off Sera with a quiver full of arrows on her back and her bow on the ground beside her.

“Imp?” Evelyn said softly as she came upon the girl. She knew Sera could hear her coming from way back, but still felt it was polite to verbally announce herself, lest the elf truly not wish her company.

She paused, waiting for a response that did not come, and she sighed, making her way forward. Sera ignored her as she sat down on the elf’s left side, leaving a significant amount of space between them, not wanting to smother her, but wanting to fix this thing between them. Neither spoke for a while, but Sera didn’t tell her to piss off, either, so she didn’t dare move away from the flames.

“You should have come back,” Sera muttered sullenly after an hour or so of silence between the two. “I’d’ve gone with you. Stupid, goin’ ‘round the lake by yourself with no weapons.”

“I didn’t plan on getting caught,” Evelyn admitted quietly. “He got me, watched my hand come ’round the lake, doubled around the cabin when he heard me coming up against the wall.”

“You’re lucky he ain’t what he might’ve been,” Sera scoffed, rolling her eyes.

The young human had the decency to feel ashamed. “I know, I thought the same thing when his sword was against my jugular.”

Sera’s fist whipped out and hit Evelyn in the upper right arm, hard. “You worried the piss out of me, Evelyn! Just took off, ‘be right back’. Right back ain’t hours.”

Evelyn grabbed Sera’s hand before she could pull it back to her, and pulled the girl closer to her, wrapping her arms around her. Sera didn’t resist the embrace, only buried her face in the assassin’s neck. “I’m sorry,” Evelyn muttered into Sera’s hair, planting a kiss on the crown of the uneven mop. “It won’t happen again. You and me, next time.”

“No matter how pissy you are?” Sera’s voice was muffled, but still taunting in her lingering irritation.

Evelyn chuckled, squeezing the girl to her. “No matter how pissy I am. I promise.”

They lapsed back into silence, and Evelyn felt the throb on her arm where the punch had connected. She fought the strong urge to rub it, not wanting to let go of Sera to do so or give the girl the satisfaction of knowing it hurt. For someone so small, the girl had a swing on her.

“I think it’s going to bruise,” Evelyn muttered a second later, unable to not rub it. She let go of Sera, and she sat up with a smug grin as Evelyn rubbed the tender place.

“Good,” she said with a predictably satisfied nod. “That’ll teach you not to be a big hat dummy and go runnin’ off in the dark by yourself with no knife.”

“Yeah, I’m loony, I know.” Evelyn chuckled again, looking back at the fire, glad that things seemed better with them again.

“You said it, Shiny.” Sera reached over and took Evelyn’s hand, slipping her fingers through hers. She’d told Evelyn the night before that she liked holding her hand because it was new to her, and the chills it gave her when Evelyn had done it the first night they cuddled were the first things that told her she was interested in the woman at all. Sera had honestly initiated the first cuddle as a method of stealing warmth from a hot girl, literally and figuratively.

“I want to kiss you, but there’s soldiers about,” Evelyn said a few minutes later, looking over at Sera, whose eyes were beautiful with the reflection of flames in them. Fire suited the elf, she even smelled of it because of the jars of flame she sometimes used in battle, her temper was warm, and the kisses she could give were like a conflagration of Evelyn’s very soul, hot and languid as they were. That was the kiss she craved at this moment.

“And?” Sera prompted, unconcerned and unashamed.

Evelyn turned her upper body to face the girl completely, leaning towards her and dropping her voice so that only Sera’s ears could pick up the whispered words. “And the kind of kiss I have in mind would send these boys into whatever dark corner they could find for a wank.”

“Mmm,” Sera hummed, nodding. “And Cass is in the tent all night because it’s Varric after me tonight.”

Evelyn leaned over even further, running her nose up Sera’s neck above her scarf and nipping at the bottom of her ear. “We could find a nice patch of woods for a while before bed….” She reached up and untied the scarf, letting it fall away so she would have more skin to kiss.

Sera nodded vigorously at the suggestion, swallowing the whimper she wanted to give as Evelyn discreetly kissed down her neck, deftly unbuckling the strap of Sera’s quiver. “Whatever,” she breathed deeply, moving her head to the side to give Evelyn more room to place her open mouthed attentions. “As long as you do this when we get there.”

“Deal,” Evelyn murmured in agreement, sitting back up and away from Sera, much to the elf’s dismay. The disgruntled noise she gave made Evelyn chuckle, and she gave her hand a squeeze. “My brother Maxwell always said good things come to those who wait.”

“All this waitin’ is killin’ me,” Sera groaned, leaning against Evelyn. “If we don’t make it to an inn soon to get you to myself, I’m gonna explode or somethin’.”

“I know the feeling.” There had been three times since they’d kissed that first time the night before that they’d had to stop before things went too far. Once it even went as far as over the clothes grinding and touching. They certainly liked testing their limits, and it didn’t help matters that the girl was so Maker-damned good at the things she did. Evelyn had a sneaking suspicion that Sera learned how to fuck in the same way she did, with professional whores. There was no better teacher than someone that used it as a trade skill. “I nearly finished earlier, with just what we were doing.” She wasn’t ashamed to admit that she had nearly came in her pants just from the kissing and grinding, the first time that had ever happened to her. Whether it was a testament to Sera’s skill or to the attraction between them, Evelyn didn’t know.

“Yup,” Sera said matter of fact, crossing her ankles to squeeze her thighs together from her reaction to the memory of what they had been doing. She’d also come very close to peaking, and probably would have had Varric not shown up with a deck of cards when he did.

“Wish Varric would interrupt this watch,” Evelyn muttered, taking the thought right out of Sera’s head as they both listened to him snore on, oblivious to their hurry.

“He’ll probably sleep in, like always,” Sera replied, letting go of Evelyn’s hand long enough to grab a log from the pile and add it to the flames. Evelyn watched her with an amused expression that made Sera pause after she was done. “What are you lookin’ at me like that for?”

“You’ve acclimated to this lifestyle quite well, and quickly,” Evelyn told her, and Sera’s nose scrunched up.

“What’s ‘acclimated’ mean?” she asked her, and Evelyn couldn’t help but to push her finger against the tip of her wrinkled nose, thinking how adorable the expression was.

“You’ve gotten used to it,” Evelyn explained, and Sera nodded, the wrinkle fading from her button nose as the meaning sunk in. “Learning stuff about it.”

“Yeah, it’s not so bad. Still like a bed and a bath tub, but this ain’t bad. Kinda good, innit? It let us get to know each other.”

“You’re certainly my favorite person here,” Evelyn said with a grin that made the thief grin right back. “I’m glad you’ve been stuck with me long enough for my charm and wit to win you over, my imp.”

“It was mainly how pretty your arse is in those leather breeches you wear,” Sera said in a playfully serious tone. “That’s a _real_ nice bum you’ve got back there, Shiny.”

Evelyn gave her a playful swat on the arm, and Sera laughed. “Okay, okay,” Sera said, dodging a second swat. “You’re kinda funny, too.”

Evelyn made a grab for Sera’s side, which proved to be a ticklish spot for her, so she squealed and rolled away, getting to her feet and scurrying off. Evelyn didn’t think twice before popping up and taking off after her, catching up to her relatively easy, and then tackling the elf to the ground right on the outskirts of the camp. They wrestled for a few minutes, laughing and cussing at each other with taunts flying every direction, both of them forgetting that most of the camp was sleeping and that Evelyn was still supposed to be resting. The soldiers that were still awake watched the two women roll around with interest, just the way Evelyn said they would.

Evelyn struggled in the elf’s grip, managing to loosen one of her arms by pressing down on a pressure point on her wrist. “Hey, that’s cheating!” Sera admonished her, rolling away when Evelyn tried to catch her in a vice grip with her thighs. The moment she was back on her feet, she was on the run again.

“War changes things, but war… war never changes,” Evelyn grunted, launching herself after the imp again. She was getting winded, but she dared not give Sera the satisfaction of having more stamina than she. She had to pin her, and she had to pin her quickly.

They were well away from camp now, the glow of the fires distant in the thick of the trees in which Sera had run to take refuge from a closely pursuing Evelyn. It was hard for Evelyn to see, and all of sudden she didn’t even hear Sera’s footsteps running through the underbrush. She stopped, panting for breath and trying to hear over the sound of it. “Imp?” she called out into the darkness, hearing no answer. Brow furrowing in slight worry, she took a step forward, straining her eyes against the thick blackness in front of her, raising her marked hand for the little dim light it offered. “Sera, come on, don’t play around with me, disappearing like--”

A weight dropped onto her back with a laugh, and Evelyn had a stroke before the touch on her face and the laugh in her ear registered as the imp’s. Annoyed, Evelyn reached back to pull the girl over her shoulder, but Sera dropped to the ground and took her knees out from under her, swinging a leg over her lap and pinning her wrists up by her head, thighs locked around hers like an iron clasp. Evelyn growled, starting to attempt to squirm free, but Sera leaned down and caught her mouth with hers, and Evelyn stopped struggling immediately.

The kiss was slow and deep, despite the way both were reeling with the exertion of their run. Sera’s tongue slid against hers in sure strokes that lit that familiar feeling in her gut that made her need more of it. Slowly the grip on her wrists lightened, until Sera had released them, and the grip on her lower body also disappeared as Sera stretched out on top of her without breaking their kiss.

Sera used a knee to nudge Evelyn’s thighs apart until she was nestled against her in a reverse of the position they had so enjoyed prior to cards that day, giving a slow roll of her hips into the human woman, whose hands sought immediate purchase of the elf’s shoulders. She clutched herself to her as lightning struck through her when their sexes touched through cloth, Sera’s tongue paced perfectly with the rhythm of her hips. She was getting light headed from a lack of oxygen, but Sera moved her mouth down Evelyn’s neck just as her head began to tingle. Evelyn made a noise she couldn’t stop from coming out of her mouth when the elf bit her where her neck met her shoulder, making her fingers dig into the elf’s back. Sera hummed in approval of the reaction.

“I’m not a pillow princess, Shiny,” Sera breathed smugly in a rush of hot air directly into Evelyn’s ear. “I like to play, too.” She sucked Evelyn’s earlobe into her mouth, giving a long and firm grind into her.

Evelyn’s head flew back as more sparks sprayed through her eyesight, her fingers tangling themselves in Sera’s hair as the elf grinned into her neck, nipping the flesh there before pulling her face out to look at Evelyn. There was something in the way Evelyn looked at her, the way her hands moved on her body that was different from everyone else she’d done this stuff with. She just didn’t know why it was different, because it was the same actions. Why did it affect her so much more with this one? It felt so good.

Evelyn Trevelyan was not used to being the one looking up in any situation like the one she now found herself in. But there was nothing in her that wanted to fight the girl, or to continue the struggle to maintain control. All the notions of waiting to purposefully be this close flew out of the window when the imp gave her a wicked grin and lifted Evelyn’s tunic, leaning down and placing her scorching mouth on the flesh of her stomach, dipping her tongue into her navel and sucking the flesh around it. She licked and sucked her way all over her abdominal muscles, driving Evelyn insane as that mouth came up over her rib cage and back down the slope of her waist, placing soft kisses on each of her most recently acquired scars. That action made Evelyn’s heart swell to the point that she felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes, overcome with the onslaught of emotions doing this with Sera caused. She reached down and cupped Sera’s jaw, the touch making the elf look up at Evelyn somewhat sheepishly.

“Been wantin’ to do that since I seen ’em,” she admitted to Evelyn quietly, who smiled at the confession, pulling the girl’s mouth back up to hers. “Just glad you’re still here, Shiny,” she whispered against Evelyn’s lips a minute later, her hand coming up to stroke a finger down the human’s perfect jaw line.

The slight glow of her hand illuminated Sera’s face just enough for Evelyn to see the expression in her eyes as they looked at each other, and Evelyn made a decision. Gently pushing on Sera’s chest to rise, she sat up and curled her fingers under the hem of her tunic, aware of the tempest’s eyes on her as she pulled it over her head and let it drop to the ground, then reached behind her and untied the knot of her breast band, letting it fall with the tunic. She could hear the pace of Sera’s breath pick up with the action happening while she was kneeled between Evelyn’s thighs. She reached out to take Sera’s hands in hers, gently placing them on her body in a silent request for the elf to touch her.

“Evelyn…” There was no teasing note to the way Sera whispered her name like a prayer, her hands gripping her sides just below her breasts that the elf couldn’t help but to stare at. “If I… if _we_ do this, I ain’t gonna be able to stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop, my imp,” Evelyn whispered back, easing down onto her back, the elf following her down without prompting from her. “Please, just touch me.”

“What ‘bout you wantin’ to wait…?” Sera’s question faded as Evelyn shook her head, reaching up and pulling Sera’s face down to kiss her.

 _There’s no way we could recreate a moment like this, when I feel like this with her,_ Evelyn thought to herself, sure in her decision.

She felt Sera’s hands hesitantly slide up that inch of flesh between them, and to the underside of her breasts as she kissed her sweetly as they had yet. Gently cupping them fully in her hands, their weight fit perfectly in the slightly roughened palms of the archer. Evelyn gasped into her mouth when Sera’s thumbs came up and slowly drew circles over her hardened tips, her hips jerking up for attention as the sensation shot straight down into her leather pants. She pulled at the bottom of Sera’s smock, getting her hands beneath it to touch the skin of her back, needing to have more of the other rogue against her than what she currently had. Something seemed to click in Sera’s head at her touch, and she quickly sat up to jerk it off and toss it away, while Evelyn didn’t give her time to remove her own chest bindings, having it off of the girl before her shirt even hit the ground. She barely had time to take another breath before Sera’s mouth was on hers again, teeth tugging at her bottom lip hard enough to draw a groan from her that made the imp grin into the kiss.

It was a blur for Evelyn from there; how they ended up completely naked with Sera’s fingers buried inside of her, Evelyn’s thighs locked around her waist with the elf enthusiastically thrusting hard against her while intermittently panting into her mouth and then kissing her deeply to swallow the noises she was making the knife-happy human keen. Sweat rolled down both their bodies despite the chill outside as they feverishly moved against each other, the attraction and constant teasing leaving them unable to take it as slowly as they might have liked. Her body gave a throb, alerting her to the impending orgasm that was quickly mounting, but Sera felt the throb, too, and slightly slowed her pacing to stave it off that much longer, not wanting this to be over any time soon.

She felt Evelyn’s hands touch her chest, traveling slowly down her stomach as the muscles contracted and loosened with every push in and out of her lover, her fingertips making Sera’s eyes roll back in her skull at the twitch it caused her entire lower body to have. But then Evelyn slid a single finger between where Sera’s pelvis met hers on her every push of her fingers, the finger pressing directly at the throbbing little nub on top.

“Bloody fuck!” Sera yelled, her hips freezing in place, pressed hard against Evelyn as tremors shot through her body at the contact.

“Don’t stop,” Evelyn pleaded, slowly rolling her finger over the little ridge of hard flesh. “So close, imp. Please….”

It took a moment for Sera to gather herself enough to move again with that pressure there, slowly making circles around her, pushing her close to the edge of a fall she wasn’t ready for either of them to take. _She feels so good, this all feels good. I like this with her best, Maker’s hairy balls she’s so good… her voice right now, I can’t handle that, shut up before you make me come._

“Shhhh,” Sera shushed the woman beneath her, trying to concentrate on making her finish before she did. She needed that, she needed to see this cocky, beautiful noble arsehole come undone beneath her, _because_ of her. She needed it so badly that she couldn’t even take it easy their first time, pouncing on the girl as soon as they were out of their knickers, _schloop_ –two fingers knuckle deep. _Heh, didn’t hear her complain, though._ “Don’t talk, Shiny. Makes me shake.”

Evelyn bit her lip at this valuable piece of information that Sera had a weakness for dirty talk, rolling her hips up against the elf. “I can’t tell you–” a gasp when Sera gave a hard buck into her at the sound of her voice, “how you’re so much stronger than you look?” She leaned her face up to her ear as Sera’s lungs pushed out a rush of air at the words Evelyn breathed. “How good you feel inside me?” she moaned softly, her body beginning to shake as well. Her free hand moved down Sera’s back, cupping her bottom and pulling the flexing muscles harder against her. She bit down on the tip of Sera’s pointed ear as the girl buried her face in her neck with a low, pitiful whine that sent hard shudders through Evelyn. The throbbing in her lower regions was coming more quickly, and was becoming more pronounced as a slight tingle began in the bottoms of her bare feet, growing stronger every second she said these things out loud to her lover.

“S-shut up, Shiny… fuck,” Sera muttered against her, shaking her head without pulling her face free of the sweaty skin she nipped at now.

“My imp,” Evelyn breathed affectionately, the hand between them flying up to tangle in Sera’s hair as the other still clung to her pivoting hips. “I–fuck, Maker please, _Sera!_ ” The hand clutching Sera’s arse slid between them to take the place of the hand now in her hair, furiously rolling over Sera’s nub, making the elf lose the rhythm of her hips, but Evelyn was too far gone to care. “With me? Please, Sera…” The words fell out of her mouth and Sera’s body shivered violently against her, and Evelyn’s toes curled.

Sera’s face came up out of her neck with her mouth open, eyes wide in the light green glow from the hand gripping her hair. Evelyn felt herself clamp down hard on Sera’s fingers, and Sera’s hips jerked against hers, both of them whimpering loudly at the sensation, the slow thrust Sera gave as her last being the push over the edge as her finger pushed hard on that spot inside of her. Evelyn’s pelvis surged up from the ground with a sharp cry, lifting Sera into the air before they both crashed back down into a puddle of sweaty flesh.

Evelyn pulled the girl’s face to hers again, tears sliding down her face from the force of the orgasm that just slammed through her. She gave her every amount affection she could muster in this kiss, lest she think Evelyn had not been sure of this still. This was the right time. This was what was meant to happen, and Evelyn did not regret one single breath of the entire thing.

Her heart was slamming against it’s cage, and her breath was shallow and quick, but the slick flesh crumpled against her felt amazing. Evelyn made no effort to move from beneath the now winded elf, whose hand was still inside of her, feeling every flutter of her aftershocks as the muscles tightened and loosened around her fingers, Evelyn’s wetness seeping over them as they laid together. Sera could feel her own wetness coating her bare thighs, her wandering mind finding it humorous that they had managed such a feat as the mutual moment of climax.

_She’s so friggin’ pretty when she’s comin’, no friggin’ wonder… told her to shut up. Piss._

Sera let her head fall to Evelyn’s soft chest, listening to the frantic pace of her heart calm into a more steady beat as her heated skin cooled in the night air. Neither of them spoke a word, content to lie there, until Sera’s fingers flexed inside of Evelyn again, pressing right against the spot inside and making the woman whimper and her hips shift upwards in search of more. So slow that she wasn’t even sure she was doing it, her hips pressed forward again, and Evelyn’s hand touched her face, making her look up to see her with a small smile.

“Keep going, imp,” she said softly, rolling up against her. “You did say you wouldn’t stop after just once.”

Sera’s face couldn’t fight off the smirk that appeared. “Liked that, yeah?” she asked the obvious, flexing her fingers again before pulling them out and bringing them to her lips, tasting Evelyn for the first time. _Definitely about to do this, knew it._

“Yeah, I did,” Evelyn admitted, blushing a bit with the affirmative answer. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been the one on the receiving end first, if it had ever happened at all. Watching Sera lick her fingers clean was having an effect she didn’t know was possible, too. But what happened next blew her mind.

Sera bent forward between her legs, pressing her lips to Evelyn’s lower abdomen again, making a path of kisses along the line where her pubic hair began. She felt Sera take both of her thighs in each hand, massaging the insides as her kisses went lower, but then went away from where Evelyn hoped they were going, kissing up the insides of both thighs instead as she placed them over her shoulders. Sera paid significant attention to the backs of her knees when Evelyn came off the ground again with the first touch her mouth there, enjoying every noise that came out of her. She kissed her way back down a thigh so achingly slow that Evelyn entertained the thought of threatening her with a blade; but then the best thing finally happened and the assassin exhaled with a high pitched noise as the flesh around her sex was sucked into a hot mouth, a tongue jabbing at the sensitive bit at the top.

Both of her hands went down and gripped Sera at the base of her long ears, Evelyn nearly howling with how fucking good Sera was at this particular thing. Her mouth was fucking fantastic, Evelyn already had a coil building in the pit of her stomach again at the way Sera went at her like she’d wanted this for years. “OH!” she yelped when Sera’s tongue slid inside of her where her fingers had been, and she realized for the first time that the girl’s tongue was _long._ She couldn’t control the helpless sounding noises bursting out of her every time the imp curled the tip of her tongue just enough to touch her inside place. Sera’s nose happened to be rubbing along side of the outside place as Evelyn’s hips rocked with a frenzy on her, pulling her face into her harder as she got closer to coming all over it.

But then Sera pulled her mouth away with a deep breath, sitting up on her knees with Evelyn’s legs still over her shoulders, pushing three fingers into Evelyn before pumping behind them with her hips, the other hand coming up to touch Evelyn’s stomach, enjoying feeling the muscles dance as she made her delirious. She liked the view from this position, watching Evelyn’s tits bounce with every thrust she made, the expression in Evelyn’s eyes as she looked up at her, having this beauty laid out in front of her. _Mine. Claimed for good. Think I might love this one, one day. Arrows for anyone that don’t like it, too._

When she felt Evelyn start to tighten on her fingers and saw her go nearly cross eyed, Sera pulled her hand free and went back down with her mouth, pushing her tongue back inside of her as her thumb went to the nub, running tight circles over it. Evelyn’s fingers dug into the ground as she climaxed, and her upper body twisted, dragging herself away from the intensity of the sensation, but Sera didn’t let her get away, following without ever pulling her tongue out of the girl.

 _“Maker!”_ Evelyn’s muscles seized up again, the contraction in her abdomen pulling her upright as she felt the undulation of her sex in her lover’s mouth. She pulled at Sera’s hair, but that seemed to only spur the girl on to drag out what was one of the longest orgasms she’d ever had, and she didn’t know if her heart could take much more.

Ungodly sounds were shooting out of her throat while she shamelessly called for the Maker. Forget trying to be civilized and quiet about this; she knew now that if there was ever a time they had to be discreet, Sera was not allowed to use this beautifully gifted mouth on her. Her thighs snapped shut around the girl’s head, and Evelyn prayed she wouldn’t suffocate her before she regained control of her limbs, but the pleasure was still raging through her, threatening her sanity.

_“Sera, please, I can’t handle…”_

Evelyn was basically sobbing her pleas by this point, having lost her eyesight to a white that flashed in front of her eyes and didn’t fade, her body shaking like she was being electrocuted in the best of ways. But then with one final surge that made her cry out louder than any of the other spasms put together and pulled her body straight up again from another contraction of muscles, then her body went completely slack, thighs falling from Sera’s ears without conscious effort as her back hit the ground again with Sera still attached to her.

Sera slowly withdrew her mouth, leaning her forehead against one of Evelyn’s violently quivering thighs, her breath panting over the sensitive flesh, making Evelyn’s hips squirm by themselves. Evelyn barely felt Sera press a final kiss to her sex as she came back into her body from somewhere else. The elf took a slow path back up her body, kissing and nuzzling every patch of skin that she passed, her fingers lightly skimming along Evelyn’s forearms, cupping her face once Sera’s mouth reached hers for a long, lazy kiss that tasted of nothing but Evelyn.

And Evelyn loved it. The girl was hers. Tasting herself in her kiss was exquisite, better than what happened just a moment before.

 _Oh, Maker, this mouth… blessed sin, Andraste, Maferath has shit on this mortal lover._ She reveled in the feel of her body on hers, almost greedily wishing to be one with girl again, only this time with her hand buried inside of the elf. My hands are filthy, digging at the dirt… _Maker’s breath, did we really just fuck like that on the blighted ground?_

“We should try to sneak around to the lake before we go back to camp,” Evelyn said a few minutes later, still at loss for breath from the kisses they’d shared. “I’m sure we are a sight to see, covered in dirt and leaves. I can’t believe we just… fucked on the ground.” Both of them dissolved into giggles, Sera pressing a kiss to her collarbone where her face was nestled.

“Your idea,” Sera reminded her, reluctantly pushing herself up to where she was straddled across Evelyn’s lap. “Not your worst one, either.” She ran her hands across Evelyn’s abs again, loving watching the muscles react to her fingers.

“You skipped the last half of your watch,” Evelyn laughed, reaching up and pinching one of Sera’s nipples playfully. “Oh, Maker, Cassandra is going to light me on fire for this.”

Sera gave a low growl at the thought, leaning down for one more kiss before she got to her feet, holding out a hand to help Evelyn to hers. They dusted the sticks and leaves from their legs and backs, then Sera felt a devious smile light up her face. “I’ll get your bum, just turn around,” she said playfully, thrilled when Evelyn spun around and poked her bottom out towards her teasingly, wiggling it a bit. _Maker, have mercy, it’s beautiful._ Sera sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth and bit down as she gazed at the perfection in front of her.

She did indeed dust it off, but then her hands lingered, lightly massaging the soft flesh. Her eyes were locked dead onto the way it gave beneath her fingers, and how sexy it was when her hands gathered all of it and let it go to watch it bounce. _I’m having her from back here next time. I have to._  The elf leaned forward and pressed a sensual kiss to Evelyn’s spine as she replaced her hands with her sex, unable to stop from rubbing herself against it just once, to know how it felt.

“Imp,” Evelyn whispered, her breath catching with the sensation of Sera’s slick sex sliding against her. “We really should bathe….”

“I can’t keep my hands off you,” Sera whispered back almost painfully, nuzzling the nape of Evelyn’s neck with a soft gasp as her arousal built again. “I’ve had you twice and I still feel like it ain’t enough.”

Fingers reached back and twisted into her sweaty hair, scratching lightly as Sera placed kisses across the top of Evelyn’s back, her arms encircling her waist to hold her closer. “This won’t be the last time you’ll have me,” Evelyn promised her, turning in the girl’s arms and tapping a finger on her nose. “A mouth like that? Andraste’s knickers, you had me delirious. I’m definitely coming back for seconds.”

Sera’s smug grin hitched up on her face, and Evelyn rolled her eyes at herself for feeding the elf’s ego that much more, but it was true. Sera had taken her to a place she’d never seen. “Told you,” she said with a cocky chuckle. “I ain’t a pillow princess. But if you don’t want it again, you should really put some clothes on.”

“I’m trying, if you’d just stop molesting me long enough to find my breeches,” Evelyn admonished her, slapping at a hand that indeed was trying to slip back between her legs. It seemed Sera was nearly insatiable, another plus in Evelyn’s book. With the proper free time, that would be quite useful. “And besides, the next one being a screaming fool is going to be _you_ , imp.”

“You are kinda loud, yeah,” Sera said with a lopsided grin as she found Evelyn’s things and handed them to her.

“You just fucked the shit out of me, ‘course I was, what’d you expect?” Evelyn said plainly, not bothering with the chest bindings, slipping her shirt over her head without it.

Sera’s nose wrinkled up adorably in the dim green light from Evelyn’s mark, eyes squinty, a hand reaching up and scratching her head. “I did, didn’t I? Heh,” she said with a goofy grin that made Evelyn want to kiss it right off her smug face.

“I thought I had a self appreciation issue, but sheesh, you’ve got me beat by far. Come on, let’s hurry, it’s already cold, I want to get this over with and get under a pelt.” She was already dressed, watching as Sera tugged on her boots. “Do you know how to get back? We ran pretty far.”

“Don’t worry, Shiny, I can see where to go. Elfy-elf thing, seeing in the dark.”

“Superior hearing, sight, and stamina,” Evelyn counted off as she followed Sera presumably the way they came. “Elves got it good.”

Sera snickered. “Unless you’re Baldy, who hears everything we say and do, and it kills him.”

“Well, he does seem to be a proper sort of gentleman,” Evelyn reasoned for his hostility towards their rather open affections.

“Pfft,” Sera laughed, shooting a glance at the Herald. “You really don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?” Evelyn asked curiously.

“Nothing, Shiny. Better to be blind, sometimes, innit?”

Evelyn didn’t press her, but her curiosity was peaked. What was she not seeing that Sera obviously had? Did she think Solas was jealous that they had connected the way they had? It was an almost immediate mutual attraction, not something Evelyn planned. Who could be jealous over something she couldn’t control? She was drawn to the woman walking in front of her like she’d never been drawn to someone before, the things that had just transpired between them confirming it further for her.

Once the light of camp was in sight, they veered widely to the left, circling around outside the perimeter as quietly as they could. Varric was setting a cooking spit up over the fire, what looked to be a fat nug skewered onto it. Was it so late that he was already starting breakfast? Evelyn glanced up at the sky, shocked at how low the moon was hanging, maybe four more hours of darkness. They had been gone for longer than a mere hour.

“How long were we gone?” Evelyn asked Sera once they were out of earshot of the camp again, coming up on the lake shore.

The moon was bright still, and she could see Sera’s silhouette give a shrug. “Couple hours, maybe? Dunno, didn’t feel long, though.” She pulled her clothes off once more, giving a shiver in the chilly air. “Gonna regret this.”

“At least it isn’t as cold as Haven,” Evelyn replied optimistically, steeling herself for the feel of the icy water.

Sera went in first, diving under as soon as she could to scrub at her head. The water was freezing, this whole idea was loony, they should have waited until the sun was up to give some of the pleasant warmth it gave the Hinterlands. She heard a splash as she came back up with a loud gasp for air that the cold had stolen from her lungs when she went under, and she whipped around to see where Evelyn went in. She saw a ripple on the surface about ten feet away, and made to swim that way, but arms grabbed her beneath the water, and then Evelyn popped out, pulling Sera to her.

“You’re the warmest thing in here,” Evelyn said, her teeth chattering. “I think I’m done, are you?”

“Aye,” Sera agreed, swimming for the shore as fast as she could.

Evelyn gave her long hair a wring as she came out of the lake, excited to get warm under a cover, and finally get some sleep. She was exhausted and the cold water only seemed to deepen it instead of alleviate it. She walked back to where Sera stood, naked and dripping wet, looking around the ground.

“Shiny, where’d we put our stuff?”

“Right here…” There was nothing. Their clothes, their boots, gone. “Sera, we’ve been pranked. Someone took our shit.”

“What the bleedin’ fuck? Who?” She turned in a circle, looking around for a sign of disturbance. “We were in there for like thirty friggin’ seconds!”

Evelyn didn’t know whether to laugh like hell or murder someone, so she chose the first. She started as a low chuckle, but it grew into a loud guffaw. “I don’t know, but they’re fucking good,” she said when she could, wiping a tear from her eye.

“Dirty gits,” Sera giggled in agreement. “This is war. How are we gonna get back into camp, arses out?”

“Belly crawl to the rear of our tent and slide under?”

Sera gave a slow nod. “Yeah, that would do. Better’n anything I got.”

“Whoever did this is just watching, probably dying with laughter,” Evelyn muttered, shaking her head as they crept back to the camp.

“Or jerkin’ his prick,” Sera said with a disgusted tone, making Evelyn curious.

“You don’t do men, at all?”

“Ew, no,” Sera said, gagging a little with her tongue out for emphasis. Then she got serious faced and stopped to appraise Evelyn with her eyes narrowed. “Why, do you?”

Evelyn laughed at the note of apprehension in Sera’s tone, as if she were preparing for the worst. “No, I do not,” she told her, amused as she watched her imp’s shoulders relax as she turned and started walking again.

“Thank the Maker for that, already put my mouth on your junk ‘n everything,” Sera sighed in obvious relief. “Never even went down on a whore that did men. Only the ones that did women only.”

Evelyn gave a dry laugh. “After two bottles of whiskey, I wouldn’t remember what whore I was fucking. Those were some fun times in my life,” she said sarcastically, thinking back to the two years before she ran away from Ostwick, being the bann’s daughter in the whorehouse every night. She was bedding whores by her fifteenth name day, being taught how to fully and utterly please her partner by much older and experienced women that delighted at showing the young girl how to use that smart mouth of hers. “Whores taught me everything I know, though.”

Sera looked back over her shoulder and gave her a grin. “I can tell,” she said simply. “You can, too, I bet.”

“Yeah, but you’re better at it than they were, trust me.” Evelyn gave a shudder that had nothing to do with the cold. Sera had given the poetic phrase “blind with passion” a whole new meaning that night. _Blind, suffocating, exploding out of my fucking skin. Maker, I don’t know if I can handle that again without dying._

Sera put a finger to her lips as they came back, dropping to the ground low, Evelyn following suit. _Don’t let anyone see us, I don’t want to explain this right now, especially to Cassandra,_ Evelyn prayed to whomever would listen. She just wanted to be able to get to her bedroll, in the privacy of their tent. Cassandra slept like a rock when the woman deigned to actually put effort towards resting, so she hoped this would be one of those times she was dead to the world. Sera slid under the canvas, holding it up for Evelyn to slide under after her. The tent was dark aside from Evelyn’s hand, and in its light she could see Cassandra’s face still sleeping with a crease between her eyebrows like always.

Evelyn didn’t dare breathe a sigh of relief yet, not until she had pulled a fresh tunic from her sack and was on her back under a pelt, shivering from the cold and practically crushing Sera to her when the girl joined her beneath the cover. Both had only put on shirts, and still had wet heads from the lake, so the tangle of limbs was a desperate attempt to quickly warm up, but the feel of each other threatened to warm them up another way.

“Imp.” Evelyn gave a pinch to the hand trying to worm its way between her legs yet again. “No. Cassandra is right there.”

Sera huffed, but stopped her advances. “We need our own tent.”

“I’ll work on that, but for now my issue is horses. We need mounts, badly. Our trip time would be cut in half with a strong steed.”

“I’ll give you a mount,” Sera said with a tease to her voice, definitely not talking about a horse.

 _Does she ever stop? Ever?_ Evelyn shook her head with a hopeless grin, planting a kiss on the girl’s forehead. “Go to sleep,” she whispered exasperatedly, snuggling her face into her wet hair.

“I’m serious, though,” Sera whispered in earnest, getting a light whack on the arm from Evelyn, who was having serious problems not bursting into laughter.

“So am I,” Evelyn whispered, though the mirth in her voice contradicted her words.

“I’d do it for free,” Sera continued, rubbing her thigh against Evelyn’s suggestively. “Wouldn’t cost you a copper, miss.”

“Shut up before you get us killed, she has a huge fucking sword and beheads things,” Evelyn hissed, lacing her fingers through Sera’s just to keep her hands from slipping under her tunic like they tried to just now. The girl was surely going to be the death of them both either by orgasm or Cassandra’s sword, whichever came first. Evelyn had a feeling it wouldn’t be the orgasm if the Seeker awoke to them doing that three feet away from her.

“Just saying, Shiny—” Evelyn had heard enough. She did the only thing she could do to shut the imp up: kissed her. It worked like a charm.

Sera sought her place in Evelyn’s neck after they broke apart, nuzzling her with a contented sigh. The kissing was all she’d really wanted, anyway.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Cassandra rolled her eyes in the dark, but couldn’t deny the tiny smile for Evelyn. They were a good match. Now all she had to do was wait until they fell asleep and she would have Varric bring in their clothes and boots. This party-wide payback was for the rude wake up everyone had received when the two had disappeared during Sera’s watch, with her bow and quiver left by the fire. Over an hour later, the Herald had woken the entire forest, screaming Sera’s name with lots of invocation of the Maker as well. Cassandra had first drawn her sword and made to charge into the darkness, thinking the Herald being torn apart by the thief that she didn’t quite trust, the way she sounded as if she were sobbing while pleading with the elf. Varric had saved her the humiliation by making her wait and really listen to what the tone was and the things being plead.

“Sharps isn’t the only one yelling, Seeker. Heard Buttercup say a few choice phrases, too,” he laughed, finding the whole thing quite hilarious. Cassandra knew this night would end up documented in a volume one day, and realized he was waiting patiently for an official reaction from her to incorporate into the blighted thing.

Her face had grown very warm and she excused herself back to the tent to not face the smug dwarf’s laughter. Not even her hands pressed over her ears stifled the voice of the Herald ringing through the night.

A large part of her was curious as to what could cause a woman to sound like that, because nothing like that had ever happened with Galyan in the few times they had coupled, despite his tendency to use a little magic. A pain shot through her again that he was gone, among those she lost at the Conclave. Even if their meetings had been few and far between, she cared for the man. He was a good man.

Another piece of her was slightly jealous of the fact she laid alone, without the warmth of another body, but there was so much more to worry about than a body to warm her bed. The things that Cassandra bedded down with every night were her responsibilities. There was the breach, the fact that she had declared an Inquisition without anyone to fill the most important role of Inquisitor. The second problem was becoming less, as she was seeing more and more in Evelyn Trevelyan as they traveled. She was smart, cultured, and resourceful in strategy. She was kind, and cared about people. She wasn’t pure by any means, but the worldliness hadn’t corrupted her beyond reason. She was charismatic and steadfast, and talented on the battlefield despite a cocky fighting style that Cassandra knew to be her youth showing. Her style would change as she garnered experience and serious injury caused by her carelessness, like the despair demon getting its claws into her. Cassandra herself knew that for now she had to be a protector and a tutor rolled into one, and perhaps Evelyn Trevelyan would come into something more.

Time passed with no more whispers from the shared bedroll to her left, and when she listened really hard, she could hear the whistling snores that Sera gave when she had completely passed out. Cassandra couldn’t believe the stores of energy that the elf seemed to have, she heard Evelyn have to tell the girl to stop, and be quiet, until all she could hear was the sound of them kissing. But Sera had not said another word after that, Evelyn had used the kissing to her advantage. It was very sweet, the way she dealt with Sera’s immaturities, Cassandra had not failed to notice. As much as the elf irked her personally with her loud mouth and careless attitude, she did not wish their path together ill.

She pushed herself upright with a stretch, craning her neck against the tight feeling in the bend of it. She was still in her under armor, having only removed her chest plate, greaves, and gauntlets before resting after they had recruited the Grey Warden. She had sent Evelyn to talk with her friend, but she had no idea that she was sending them off into the night to be so lewdly inappropriate. She could choke the woman for that, considering all the troops in the camp that heard every bit of what should have been a very private encounter. She had no doubt that the Herald and Sera would be the gossip in the lower ranks for weeks.

Varric was seated by the end of his cooking spit when she came out of the tent, carrying her sword inside it’s sheath, before fastening the chain to her belt. The noise of it made him look up, and he gave the Seeker a smirk as she neared the warmth of the fire. “They finally pass out?” he asked her, and she gave him a pointed look, raising a finger to her lips. He scoffed. “By the sound of things, they’ll both sleep well into the morning. Buttercup made her make noises I didn’t know women could make, and I thought I was a decent lover.”

“Perhaps you’re not as charming behind closed doors as you thought, Varric,” Cassandra answered shortly, easing herself down against a log.

Varric gave her a sidelong look, a corner of his mouth twitching up. “You saying you’ve made noises like that, or you’ve made a woman make noises like that? I’d believe that one, Seeker.”

Cassandra gave a disgusted grunt, fighting the urge to grab him by the throat and choke the life out of him. Just when he was becoming tolerable, things like this came out of his mouth to remind her why he infuriated her so. The smell of the nug cooking was teasing her appetite, and she found herself cranky when she was hungry, and his mouth did not help matters. “I think it is safe to replace their things in the tent. They will need their boots once we are ready to move forward,” she said instead, not deigning to look at him just then. It was healthier for him that way, as it meant she was not going to throttle him.

“The beautiful part of it is that while they were dragging tits back to safety, they crawled right past their shit behind the tent and didn’t even notice,” Varric chuckled, moving away from the fire to take their stolen clothing back to them.

Cassandra waited until he was well away to allow the smile to cross her face.

* * *

 

“UP AND AT ’EM!”

Evelyn shot straight up in her bedroll, Sera falling off of her chest with a thud.

“The fuck--?” Sera said groggily, seeing Evelyn take off out of the tent after a little blonde ponytail that could only belong to Varric. _She’s not even wearing knickers._

She pulled herself out of the bedroll and opened the tent flap to bright sunlight and the sight of Varric being tackled to the ground by a very pissed off Shiny, her pasty arse in plain view of everyone. “I’m going to tell you this once,” she heard Evelyn say. “Do not ever wake me up like that again.”

She watched Evelyn punch him in the arm hard, then get up and come back to the tent, no one daring to say a word about her partial nudity. The Seeker was even giving a smirk to Varric, smug like she’d warned him and he’d done it, anyway. Sera stood aside and let her lover enter, then gave her a crooked grin. “You know that everyone just saw that pretty little white arse of yours, yeah?”

“Piss on them,” Evelyn scoffed, immediately beginning to pull on a fresh pair of smalls. “I don’t fuckin’ care.”

Sera gave a snort of laughter as she also began getting properly dressed for traveling. “It was a treat for them, especially Cass, I bet.”

Evelyn felt a grin begin to tug at her lips despite her foul mood from her rude awakening. She grabbed her pants that were lying down at the foot of her bedroll by her boots, and stopped, staring at the thick leather material in her hands, then at the boots on the floor of the tent. “Sera.” She said her name flatly, and Sera gave her a quizzical look as she pulled on a fresh shirt.

“Yeah?”

Evelyn didn’t verbally reply, just pointed at both sets of boots and the crumpled pile of clothes by them.

Sera’s eyes lit up with realization, and then she looked towards the closed tent flap and back to Evelyn, jerking her head towards where they could hear everyone going about their morning routines and breaking down Varric and Solas’s tent. She was silently asking Evelyn which one of them was dumb enough to prank the Herald and the prankster of all pranks, herself.

Evelyn put a finger to her lips and gave a slight shake of her head, deciding not to say anything to anyone, and silently telling Sera not to say anything, either. The culprit would tell on themselves by just looking at them a certain way if they didn’t mention how their gear just reappeared, and then she and Sera would quietly plot their revenge on the offender without them noticing that either woman was any the wiser. She would share this plan with the imp when they were on the move to Redcliffe Farms and could walk by themselves to talk.

Sera nodded and went back to packing up her things and rolling her bed stuff. Evelyn listened to the idle chatter outside of the tent as they cleaned up their gear, but no one mentioned the prank, nor anything about her or Sera. She knew they were not far from Redcliffe Farms, and after she had Dennet signed on as horse master that they would be going straight to Redcliffe village to speak with former Grand Enchanter Fiona about a possible alliance. It was the main reason they had traveled to the region to begin with, but she was glad that they had taken the time to help these poor people and seal the random rifts they came about. The reputation of the Inquisition in the Hinterlands was shining gold at the moment, and she couldn’t be more pleased with their progress thus far in the field.

* * *

 

The plan to watch for looks at the two and to quietly plot with Sera fell through rather dismally. Instead of the peaceful walk that Evelyn had assumed the day to hold, it was full of bandits, demons, random bear attacks, demons, some crazy eyed wolves, oh and _more_ demons.

Four rifts had rested between their last base encampment and Redcliffe Farms, which they did not even see until after the sun had set. The last rift had completely taken it out of all of them, despite the added help in the form of Blackwall’s sword now that he had come to travel with the party. Something about the rift over the water had made the despair demons stronger than the ones they’d previously faced, and Evelyn was just thankful she managed to kill one without being put out of commission again. The terrors were fucking annoying with that transport thing they could do, disappearing only to reappear under the party’s feet, knocking them flat on their asses while they gasp for air after it’s knocked the wind from their chests.

Evelyn was winded and sore, and her hand was completely numb from using the mark so much that day; she couldn’t feel it at all. It was a dead weight hanging limp by her left side. She knew the muscles weren’t dead because she could still flex her fingers, but the nerves had just been vibrated to their maximum. All she wanted to do was lie down on the ground where she stood and sleep.

Alas, as they topped the hill from the river bed where they’d just closed the last rift, her eyes saw what her hand was yet to feel. There was another rift, and this one was on the farm right beside the main house. “You’ve got to be fucking _kidding_ me,” she deadpanned, staring at the eerie green glow in the night. It was so bright that it lit nearly the entire farm in the newborn dark, but it wasn’t so strong as to call her mark from this far away. It did not look to be open, and maybe if Evelyn could stay far enough away for the night it would not do so.

“Perhaps if we camp on this side of the farm, it will not open until you are ready, Herald,” Cassandra suggested, taking the very thought from Evelyn’s mind.

“I was just thinking the same thing, but I want eyes on it all night. Solas, what do you think?” Evelyn asked, turning her tired gaze onto the elf, who regarded the rift with a speculative expression.

“I am of the mind that you and the Seeker may be correct. The rifts tear when you approach, so assuming it is a reaction of the mark as we believe, I think that keeping your distance for the night will allow it to remain dormant and the pain in your hand not to flare.” He made a gesture to a slight overhang behind the flat spot just across a small watering hole. “That space should suffice as a safely distanced camp and a suitable lookout for overnight observation.”

Evelyn gave a reluctant nod, almost unwilling to test the strength of the mark by taking another step, much less a hundred yards. She wasn’t sure she could handle closing another rift that day, feeling worse at this moment than she had the entire trip. The sleepiness was overwhelming, and all of her willpower was focused on remaining standing. Sera was helping by letting her lean against her as they stood still, staring at the rift ahead, her arm around Evelyn’s waist for support. She saw Evelyn fall more in the last fight than the past two weeks in the Hinterlands combined, and knew the woman was done for the day, and did not need to push herself further.

“Come on, let’s get camp set up and I’ll throw on some of this ram meat,” Blackwall said in his gruff way, the first one to start forward to the spot Solas had indicated.

Evelyn watched Varric, Solas, and Cassandra follow the man, but she was scared to walk forward. If that rift tore, then it was over for her. The fight inside of herself was gone until further notice of a recharge. Sera looked over at her, but Evelyn couldn’t meet her gaze, somewhat ashamed that she was actually frightened in front of the girl she’d sworn she would protect from the very thing that was scaring her. But Sera wasn’t letting her get away with ignoring her.

“Shiny? You okay?”

Evelyn gave a jerky nod that told more than if she had just remained still and silent. “I’m tired,” she said softly, her eyes still locked on the rift. “If I move in, and it reacts… I can’t do it again tonight, Sera. I can’t fight, I can’t close it. I can’t even feel my hand right now, and my body hurts. I think I will lie out my bedroll here tonight.”

“If you’re staying over here, I’m staying with you,” Sera said automatically, and Evelyn shook her head.

“You should eat, and get some good rest in a warm tent.”

Sera scoffed, walking Evelyn over to a grassy patch and helping her sit down. “Shut up, Shiny. You know I’m not going to listen to you,” she chided her jokingly yet seriously. “We have to have a fire to keep the wolves away, so I’m gonna make Varric come build one over here and tell Cass why we didn’t come.”

Evelyn watched Sera run off towards the others across the watering hole, then let herself fall back in the grass, looking up at the stars and the breach. She hated that fucking thing with everything inside of herself. It was like it had taken on a persona for her of a mocking asshole that taunted her every minute of every day, and when she thought too long about her task she felt angry that it had fallen to her to begin with. She was no one. How the fuck did this even happen? Cassandra swore it was what she had prayed for, but Evelyn didn’t know about that. She didn’t think she was the divine answer to a devout woman’s prayers.

_How could I be? A drunk murderer with a taste for female anatomy instead of being a good little breeding Andrastian? What deity places trust in something like that?_

 

* * *

**Antiva City 9:41 Dragon**

  
They had been at port for nearly a week before the letters arrived, each one in careful code that they had used for years without it being cracked. There were four individual letters, each addressed to a different woman, yet all had the same directive: only to the hands of the captain or first mate on the _Siren’s Call II._

The messenger was eager to get the missives from his hand into theirs, because every single dock worker on his path there had given him thoughtful looks, probably wondering if he carried a weapon or had coin on his person. He hated dealing with sailors more than anyone because they were crude and had little regard for anything outside their own ship and shipmates. The fact that the recipients of these letters were female astounded the boy, as he had only ever seen a handful of female sailors in his two years running post to the docks in Antiva City. Usually women upon such vessels were merely entertainment, but as the boy boarded the ship he was told to seek, the first thing that struck him was that it was a woman behind the wheel of this beauty, and she looked quite comfortable there.

She was dressed as any sailor dressed, with her long, thick ebony hair held back beneath a blue bandana, gold prominent around her neck and in her ears. She had a stud centered beneath her bottom lip, a Rivaini thing the boy had seen numerous times in the port, but never understood its purpose.

She was dark skinned and busty in her white top that did naught to hide her breasts. She wore little to no bottoms, but instead employed boots with a top that ran thigh high. The boy had known a whore or two, but the women in their brothels were no match for the beauty this Rivaini woman held, and he found himself slightly staring at her from the ship’s deck before he could brave the stairs to join her at the wheel. The woman had not even noticed the boy, as her face was tilted up towards the sky, her eyes on the hole that had appeared in it a month before when the mages and templars managed to blow the Divine up just like they did with the Chantry in Kirkwall some years back.

A prod in his lower back made him jump sky high, and he nearly dropped the mail onto the wooden deck as he flipped around to face his poker. An amused grin met his eyes, set in the pale face of a tall human woman with short, messy black hair, and the brightest blue eyes he’d ever seen. There was a smear of red across her nose, and he wondered briefly if it were blood.

“That’s my eye candy you’re drooling over, junior,” the woman said good naturedly in the King‘s Tongue, holding out her hand for the small stack of envelopes in his hand. “I’ll take those, you look like you’re about to piss yourself.”

“Ser, I was directed to hand these directly to the captain or first mate, I cannot--” he started to protest in heavily accented words that the woman would understand, as she was obviously a dog lord.

“Brilliant that I’m the first mate, then, huh?” The smile on the pale skinned woman’s face grew at the consternation of the teenage boy that just wanted to see her captain up close. “The captain is busy, she’s thinking really hard about something up there, and she doesn’t like to be interrupted when she thinks.”

 _“Si,”_ he muttered back in his native tongue, handing over the mail but not happy about doing so. _“Adios."_

Hawke watched the teenaged elven boy run off the ship without even waiting for a tip, and shook her head at the effect her lover had on men of all ages. They literally fell into line when her captain walked past, like little puppies following a bitch trying to catch a teat. She looked down at the envelopes in her hands, seeing the code names that meant only Varric could have sent the contents within the envelopes. After his last letters telling them that he’d been detained by Cassandra Pentaghast again for a trip to the Divine’s conclave about the bullshit that Anders pulled in Kirkwall, Hawke was a little apprehensive about opening hers. She was scared it would tell her to run, that the Seeker knew her location and was sending people after her. She trusted Varric not to spill his beans about the plan they’d discussed after defeating the darkspawn that called itself a magister, the fact that she and Isabela were actually living within the laws by taking on a trade route. The idea was to hide in plain sight.

“Captain!” she called as she took the stairs to the wheel, singling out the letter that merely read “Little Tess” across the envelope and holding it out to her lover when she drew even. “Varric sends us all his love, again.”

“That furry little sex toy misses us,” Isabela chuckled, shaking her head as she took the letter. “Best not read it here. Kitten and Beth are below deck, should read them together.”

Hawke had a sinking feeling in her stomach, a feeling she was well acquainted with and hated. It was the feeling that meant she was about to have to act when she really didn’t want to. She enjoyed not waking up to an entire city crying for help every day, and had become accustomed to the solitude that life on a ship entailed. It was selfish of her, but she was trying really hard not to care about anything going wrong in Thedas, despite the giant hole in the sky that no one could overlook.

She followed Isabela back down the stairs and through the door that led to the crew racks, galley, and captain’s quarters below deck. They easily tracked down Hawke’s younger sister and their elven friend in the very back store room of the galley, poring over some old book with Beth’s lover, a mage named Ellen Trevelyan. Isabela clucked her tongue at the three mages, shaking her head as if they did not possess a hope nor prayer.

“Lazy land dogs, all of you,” she teased, sliding into a chair at a small table near the opening of the storage room.

“Why are you all holed up back here?” Hawke asked, looking over her shoulder as a cook slammed his finger with a meat mallet and began cussing fluently while hopping around the small pit fire that their dinner was cooking over.

“The crew gets antsy when we study in the open,” Beth mumbled, not looking up from the yellowed pages in front of her.

“We frighten them,” Merrill said simply, a shrug. “But not as much as some of them frighten me,” she added with a little shiver.

Isabela gave a wicked grin. “Garlic hasn’t tried to get you drunk since I had my chat with him, has he, Kitten?”

Merrill blushed darkly, unable to meet the pirate’s eyes on her. “No,” she said quietly, with a single shake of her head. “But he still looks at me.”

“I told her we could take one of his eyes out as a warning, but she told me no,” Ellen added in helpfully, shrugging a skinny shoulder at the two newcomers to their meeting. “That’s what I would do in your situation, Merrill.”

Merrill frowned hard at the thought of taking out someone’s eye. It sounded squishy and gross. “I think I’ll just wait for his fancy to pass, shouldn’t take him long, should it? I mean, if he’s only looking skin deep, then maybe after he’s used to looking at me, he’ll get over the… weird part? Right? It makes sense to me.”

Ellen merely patted the blood mage on the shoulder, sharing all of their sympathy with the girl.

“We have letters from Varric for you and Beth,” Hawke told Merrill, who perked up immediately at the sound of their absent friend’s name.

“Oh, good! How I wish we could write him back! I have so much I could tell him about things since we last wrote him,” Merrill gushed, missing the one person in the party aside from Isabela that would listen to her ramble about nothing for hours and actually not give her hell for it.

“If he would get the fuck away from that zealot that has him hostage again, we might be able to,” Hawke agreed, nodding her head as she handed off the respective letters. She seated herself in a second chair that was opposite Isabela at the small table. “But until then, we are just gonna have to hang on. I don’t want the Seeker anywhere near me. I love my freedom just where it is, thank you.”

“ _I_ love your freedom where it is, too, sweetness,” Isabela sighed happily, reaching over and giving her thigh an affectionate squeeze, just happy to have Hawke and the sea together at the same time.

Hawke unfolded the parchment and began to read Varric’s words, a crease forming between her eyebrows as she read what he’d seen at the temple when he’d helped close something he called a rift, which seemed to be a rip between this world and the Fade.

_“It was red lyrium, Hawke. It was growing out of the ground, covering the walls. I don’t know how the fuck it managed to get to Ferelden, but it’s here, and it still sings the same song it always sung. If this Evelyn Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste woman can’t fix this hole, we’re simply fucked. I don‘t know how else to put it.”_

Hawke looked up at Ellen with a curious look. “Is your family name common in Ferelden?”

Ellen had taken the tome to herself when Merrill and Bethany had begun to read their letters, but now she looked up at her friend’s question with an eyebrow raised. “Not particularly, as we hail from Ostwick. Why do you ask?” Ellen reached for her cup of black tea as Hawke answered her question, taking a sip only to blow it out of her mouth and nose simultaneously.

“The woman that fell out of that thing with the mark on her hand, the one they’re calling the Herald of Andraste, her name is Evelyn Trevelyan—” Hawke dodged the spray that came out of Ellen’s face, taking it that the name was familiar to her. She knew it was when Bethany gasped and looked at Ellen, recognizing the name as well.

“Your sister!” Bethany exclaimed, and Ellen turned wide bright green eyes to Bethany’s caramel colored ones.

“It can’t be,” Ellen breathed, not daring to hope. “ _Evelyn?_ The Herald of _Andraste?_ She swore worse than Isabela even as a child, I cannot imagine what she would be like as an adult, but surely not a divine prophet?”

Hawke read Varric’s description of the woman aloud for Ellen’s benefit. “‘Tall with light brown hair, unworldly green eyes, a smart mouth. She’s verbal about being pissed there aren’t brothels in Haven, and sits at the tavern and drinks herself into a stupor before bed every night. I don’t know what the Maker and Andraste were drinking when they chose her, but I’d like a sip of it, myself.’” Hawke grinned over at Isabela, who was listening to her read it aloud. “I like her already, babe.”

“Sounds like our kind of woman,” Isabela agreed, licking at the corner of her mouth. “Bet she’s fun.”

“We can find out, if we ever cross paths. I mean, you have a thing about sleeping with every hero you meet, anyway,” Hawke teased her, insinuating herself and the Hero of Ferelden, Kallian Tabris. Isabela’s mouth fell open into a playfully wounded look that Hawke couldn’t help but to laugh at.

“Hey, Tabris was one time, all right? And her bloody lover was there, too,” Isabela said in her defense, which only made Hawke laugh harder.

“Bela, listen to yourself, love. The Hero of Ferelden _and_ her lover, whom is also considered quite the hero… as well as the Left Hand of the Divine.”

“And she’s running a spy network for this Inquisition nonsense, what’s your point?” Isabela said, waving her letter around. “Varric said she scares the piss out of him, but I don’t remember her being particularly scary. She was kind of a tart, to be honest. Nice tits, though.”

“Guys,” Ellen said, catching their attention. “Please don’t sleep with my sister. That’s just weird. She’s probably not even into women, anyway.”

“Hmm,” Isabela hummed, tapping the stud in her lip thoughtfully. “Not into women has never been a problem for us… I wonder what she looks like?”

Ellen groaned, covering her face. “A lot like me, I’d imagine, since we are identical twins,” she pointed out, but Isabela nor Hawke had known the mage was a twin. The information gave Isabela a pause as she looked Ellen up and down speculatively until Bethany cleared her throat loudly.

“Maker, I’m right here, Bela,” the girl said, rolling her eyes at the pirate. “And unlike you and Sister, I do not care to share what is mine.”

“We aren’t looking to touch your precious, Beth,” Hawke chuckled, also surveying Ellen as she’d yet to do after nearly four years of the girl being in her company. “We’re just… using her as a guide to whether or not we should seduce this ‘Herald of Andraste’.”

Ellen was tall, same as Hawke herself, and skinny, like Hawke herself. But that’s where the similarities ended, as Ellen’s hair was a fine chestnut brown and shorter than Hawke’s, maybe four inches long from the scalp all the way around and fell into her face in the front so that she always pushing it back from her forehead. She was pale, with a pink scar from a templar sword that ran over her left eye, through the eyebrow and disappeared in her hair line. Her eyes were a defining feature, a bright green like healthy grass, with a cerulean color around her pupil. Her breasts weren’t very big, but in comparison to Isabela’s, no one’s really were. She was all legs like a newborn halla, and wild as one when she saw fit. She’d run from two Circles before ending up at the Gallows and meeting Bethany three months before the rebellion began. Ellen didn’t try to run again after that, though Hawke felt like it had more to do with her sister than the hospitality of Knight-Commander Meredith Stannard.

“Mmm, Herald of Andraste, that does sound deliciously blasphemous,” Isabela purred agreeably to Hawke, though Hawke knew it was more to irritate Ellen than an actual fantastical thought. “I wonder if she cries to the Maker when she comes?”

Ellen closed the tome in her lap with a loud thud and put it in Merrill’s hands as she stood quickly and briskly walked away, not sparing a glance for the pair of cackling rogues behind her as she disappeared out of the galley towards the racks. Bethany gave her sister and the pirate a withering look as she rose to follow the younger woman, but the two of them just kept on giggling like a pair of overgrown children--which to Beth, they were.

“You’re both well past thirty summers, and act like a pair of kids,” Bethany said, shaking her head at them. “She’s seven years younger than I, and more mature than the two of you combined,” she finished factually as she passed them, getting nothing but a middle finger from a still laughing Isabela and a tongue stuck in her direction from her older sister.

“Well past thirty–you hear that, Bela? Thirty-four is well past, so you may as well be forty, eh?” Hawke tittered, shaking her head at Bethany’s retreating figure.

“Thirty-seven and damn surprised I made it!” Isabela called after Bethany as she turned the corner.

Merrill watched the mirth fade from both of her dear friends, and a sort of horror settle on both faces as they realized the truth of Bethany’s words. “I’ve got but three years until forty,” Isabela breathed to Hawke, who looked as if she were in line with the sudden awareness that they were mortal.

“The brat wasn’t lying. We are getting older,” Hawke said, looking over at her lover with a furrowed brow. “But you’re right, too. With our old lifestyle being what it was, I’m seriously surprised to be alive.”

“This makes me want to drink. Can we just drink? And maybe fuck? Because to hell with this granny feeling I’ve got right now,” Isabela said, pushing her chair back from the table and grabbing Hawke by the wrist.

“You always want to drink and do… that,” Merrill pointed out, and Isabela paused.

“Damn, Kitten, right as always,” she chuckled, shaking her head at herself. “Well, shall we see to our quarters?”

Hawke had no choice but to follow, shaking her head at Merrill, who waved goodbye to them with a merry smile before opening the book and continuing to read it alone.

* * *

 

Ellen slid onto the bunk that she shared with Beth, staring up at the rafters above her. Marian and Isabela were insufferable when they chose to be, like just now. They would probably seek her sister out just to spite her now, for the laugh it would give them both. She felt the straw beneath her shift as another weight added to the mattress, and she did not have to look over to know it was Bethany, her magic strong and familiar to hers, the vibration of both a symphony in her veins. If life in the Circle had given her anything good aside from patience and experience, it was Bethany Hawke.

* * *

 

  
**Kirkwall 9:37 Dragon**

She’d been taken the moment she entered Kirkwall, the Tantervale Circle she’d run away from having sent word ahead to the templars in surrounding Circles. She knew she was being stupid going to Kirkwall, but she wasn’t supplied to go any further than the coast of the Free Marches, so it wasn’t like she had a lot of choice. When she was apprehended right away and taken by boat out to the infamous Kirkwall Gallows, she saw it as the boat ride into the Void because she did not expect to survive this Circle. She had run twice, first from Starkhaven after many nights sneaking in and out, then from Tantervale, all for a bit of fun in a tavern before she had to go back. But she did not dare run from Meredith, whose reputation as a heartless beast proceeded her, the Rite of Annulment a constant threat over these mages’ heads. She loved laughter too much to let someone steal it from her, even if it meant being the defeated mage in Kirkwall, resigned to a life without seeing past the Gallows. But even that was still a life, and a life that became brighter one night in the library.

She had been reading quietly that night, pacing around a circular rug that rested near some stacks, thinking herself the only person about in the great room. The book’s subject matter was lost to her the moment she heard a quiet greeting from behind her that startled her so much she nearly dropped the book she’d been holding. For some reason it was then and only then she felt the wave of mana about this one, deep wells of it that marked the woman in front of her a talented and focused individual. Ellen’s eyes swept over her form, shorter than she, her hair longer and pitch black, her eyes a soft caramel in the light of the oil lamps, her skin a snowy white. She wore navy robes that fit her hourglass figure perfectly and a small, warm smile that was directed at Ellen.

“I’m Bethany, Bethany Hawke,” the woman introduced herself, stepping forward with a hand outstretched to Ellen, who took it and shook without realizing she was doing so because she was so caught up in the warmth the woman exuded.

“Ellen Trevelyan,” she answered absently, pleased when her steady gaze made the woman in front of slightly blush. “I’m new here.”

“I noticed. I saw them bring you in. A runner from Tantervale, rumor says?” Bethany gave her a small half smile as she stepped around a table that stood between them and took a seat in one of the wing backed chairs near the small fireplace towards the front of the room.

“Aye, but I’m from Ostwick. I don’t like being classified by what Circle I serve,” Ellen said, her eyes following the mage’s every movement. She didn’t look back down at the book in her hand as she closed it and mindlessly slid it on top of a random shelf to her left. She moved forward to take the seat opposite Bethany at the fireplace, and Bethany gave her another smile.

“I understand. This is the only Circle I’ve ever known.”

Ellen leaned her elbows onto her knees as she listened to the girl speak, loving the velvety quality. She realized this woman was years her senior, but she didn’t care. She was entranced by the very well of her mana. She wanted to know her. “How old were you when you came?” Ellen asked interestedly, cocking her head to one side in curiosity as the question brought a smug smile onto the mage’s face.

“Nineteen,” she answered, and Ellen knew exactly why she was smug. That was a long time to go without being taken by templars. “I’ve been here six years this year.”

Ellen winced, thinking about the Gallows uniquely oppressive environment, and how it felt like a weight of sorts rested on top of every person inside, including the templar guards. “That is impressive. You’ve lasted this long here and still have your wits about you,” she said softly, looking to see if anyone was about when she said so.

“It’s not so bad here if you like to read,” Bethany replied light heartedly, making Ellen grin. She did love books, she always had. She had been the brains, Evelyn had been the muscle.

“You’re not a Marcher, are you? Fereldan, then? I knew some in the first Circle I served. Blight victims that got caught when they came here for refuge.”

“Then you know my story,” Bethany said with a little shrug. “We came here to run from the darkspawn. I made it undercover just over a year, then templars came to my uncle’s and brought me here.”

“You’re lucky you made it. I hear lots didn’t,” Ellen said quietly, chewing her lip pensively.

“I know… my twin brother didn’t make it.” Bethany sighed, looking away from Ellen and into the flames. Ellen felt her heart sink for her, not being able to imagine the world without Evelyn in it, even if they never saw each other again.

“You do have my sympathies,” Ellen said to her with a small nod. “I can nearly identify with losing your twin, yet my twin lives on. She watched me be dragged away when we were but children, eleven. Neither of us took it well.” Her gaze drifted, lost in that day so long ago.

“You’re a twin?” Bethany sounded like she couldn’t believe it. Ellen looked back at her from the stacks behind the girl.

“Aye, identical. Her name is Evelyn. What was your brother’s name?”

“Carver,” Bethany said in barely more than a whisper. “His name was Carver. He was an arse, he was stubborn and brash, hot tempered. But he was protective, and loyal. He loved us. He died protecting us. And I miss him every day.”

“He sounds a lot like Evelyn,” Ellen acknowledged with a wry smile. “I was a bookworm, rarely went outdoors. She was the opposite, always looking for trouble, adventure, getting caught up in schemes even as a child. Stubborn, brash, hot tempered asshole.. You described Evelyn perfectly.”

Bethany gave an understanding nod, looking to the flames again. “And I’m sure you miss her every day, too. Perhaps we can help each other stay focused on the now, rather than the then. Have you read anything by Hertim Uhark?”

Ellen’s eyes lit up at the name. “Only everything he’s written!”

As days turned into weeks, the attraction refused to budge and only seemed to get stronger until Ellen couldn’t handle the pressure in her ribs anymore when she was around the healer who’d had her attention from the moment she first saw those caramel eyes. The final straw was one day they were talking in the courtyard during a fairly windy day. The wind had whipped strands of Bethany’s hair across her face, and without even thinking about what she was doing Ellen had reached out and lovingly tucked it back behind her ear. The action had surprised them both, and Bethany had instinctively gripped Ellen’s wrist as she touched her, but she didn’t let go when they locked eyes.

Slowly leaning forward, Ellen tilted her head just a bit, silently asking permission to do what the magic between them wanted her to do. Bethany’s response was a nod so slight that it may have been Ellen’s imagination, but she did it, regardless. She kissed Bethany. Bethany kissed her back. It was the most natural thing Ellen had ever done.

The kissing became a thing when Ellen found out that Bethany had never kissed anyone before her, and it explained why Bethany was pulling the younger girl into dark passages just to do it undisturbed. But it also meant that Bethany was a virgin, something Ellen was definitely not. Therefore, she was shaking wreck when they finally crossed that line, trying so hard to make it perfect for Beth, to show her how she felt with her actions rather than words. So she was shocked that after they had finished and were lying curled together in the dark that Bethany started giggling, until the giggling turned into laughter.

“What? What’s so funny?” Ellen demanded, her pride getting just a tad hurt. She thought Bethany was laughing at her performance, but not fifteen minutes earlier she was making the woman fall apart in her arms for the first time.

“Nothing, calm down, you were amazing. I’m just laughing at a memory. A friend of mine-- well, also my sister’s lover-- told me once that men were only good for one thing, and women were good for six. I see now what she meant when she said so, because I don’t think a man could-- you know… do that.” Bethany made a gesture between their bare chests with a single finger to indicate what just happened between them.

“Which part?” Ellen teased with an eyebrow raised, reaching up to touch her face.

“Exactly my point,” Bethany answered neutrally, not falling for Ellen’s bare trap to get her to say something dirty.

“Clever girl,” Ellen murmured, pulling her face closer so as to kiss her softly. She really held such an affection for the girl that it puzzled her. Bethany was the best book she’d ever come across, and she wanted to read it all the way to finish because she was so curious.

Things had been bad in Kirkwall for years. But things had really declined in the past three with the murder of the viscount by the qunari Arishok, and Meredith trying to rule with a paranoid fist ever since. The Circle was restless. The energy was high with reports of blood magic running rampant through the ranks, secret rituals and gatherings being held. Ellen and Bethany dared not to sneak away together at the end, fearing being noticed missing and accused of blood magic, as well. The scariest part is that even if they were merely caught being intimate, both feared they would be put to the sword under the guise of blood magic just to quell the number of mages under the tenuous hold of the templars. The First Enchanter was already building a resistance while fearing the worst, and though they did not actively put their bodies at the forefront of Meredith’s shrewd, icy gaze, both girls made their own small contribution to the mage cause in the form of study.

Then the unthinkable happened. An apostate named Anders set off the conflict that been growing with a big bang. The crazy bastard blew up the Chantry and the Grand Cleric within it. Ellen had been in her room, gazing off into space while trying to calm the vibration of magic that just wouldn’t stop inside. The explosion from the distance did not surprise her. She felt this coming in the air. Everyone did.

When Orsino came back in a cool rage to tell them all what had transpired, he was not alone. Bethany, her older sister, and a group of misfits were standing armed with him. Ellen caught Bethany’s eyes, and the older mage made a motion with her hand for Ellen to come to her side. Ellen did not hesitate. If she were to die this day, it would be her honor to do it with these brave people. She would give her life for the freedom of her people, for the chance to be people, and not tools or the shame of the Chantry. The templars had asked for this. They were sick of being treated like animals.

The fighting was rough. It wasn’t Ellen’s first battle, but it was damn near. She didn’t have a lot of combat experience, but she knew how to focus and throw spells. Storms were her forte. She could pull lightning from a blue sky if she so willed it, and willed it she did. Over and over, static shocks running through the metal of templar armor, and burning through the flesh of abominations that were appearing all around them. Orsino himself had shifted, giving in to the demon as he declared that blood magic was the only way. Killing the monster had not been easy, nor was it joyful. He had all but admitted to being an accomplice to the sick fuck that had murdered Bethany’s mother, and Orsino had been a man that both Hawke women had trusted. The bitter look on the elder Hawke’s face told it all.

But that had not been the end. Meredith herself had come out to finish what Anders had purposefully begun. The man stood to the left of Ellen now, on the other side of the massive woman known as Aveline. Ellen debated throwing a bit of sparks his way when she saw how the man looked at Bethany as if she were the one that got away. She swallowed the jealousy long enough to listen to the two women ahead exchange words that would no doubt end in bloodshed, no matter what the Champion of Kirkwall said now. Meredith was so insane that her second in command refused to stand with her and furthermore ordered her to step down from her position. She did not take his words well, pulling free a massive blade of shining red crystal that made the dwarf behind her gasp with unconcealed shock.

Red lyrium. It was something she still saw in her nightmares, something that she hoped she’d never see again after she watched it make concrete statues spring to life and attack them, and then…. And then turn a living creature into a solid crystal shard of itself, shaped just as Meredith was in life. It was silent after she was dead, everyone looking at the gaggle of templars that had survived the fight. The Knight-Captain, Cullen, gave a jerk of his head to the Champion, who did not hesitate. She grabbed the wrist of the dark skinned woman with the funny jokes and took off, and before she could draw a breath, Ellen was being dragged off as well, by Bethany.

The ship was bigger inside than out. Ellen was thankful of the fact, having a bit of claustrophobia caused by years locked up in the Circle. But Isabela’s ship was anything but a prison. In two weeks’ time, Ellen had seen a number of cities as they either sailed by or stopped at port. The quiet elf with the lyrium markings was the first to go, having been so loyal to Hawke that he’d fought by her side in the end, even with his hatred of mages. Anders was next, having a notion that he needed to go to ground as soon as he was able. Ellen hoped she never had to lay eyes on the Grey Warden again, if he couldn’t keep his longing looks at her lover to himself. She was glad to see the back of the blond bastard.

That left Ellen with an elven apostate named Merrill that she actually rather liked despite her own proclivity being blood magic; the ever abrasive and seductive Captain Isabela, whose jokes alone would forever score points for her in Ellen’s book, unless the joke was on her and Bethany; the Champion of Kirkwall, Marian Hawke, a sarcastic and reluctant hero that never wanted to see Kirkwall again; and Bethany, of course. The common consensus among all five of the remaining survivors was that they did not want to be in the middle of the bullshit anymore, so they simply disappeared. And Ellen was completely okay with it.

* * *

 

**Antiva City 9:41 Dragon**

Four years later, Ellen still didn’t care for when she was the butt of one of Isabela’s crude jokes, no matter how hard she would laugh at anyone else’s expense. She was aware it was petulant, and somewhat childish, but as the youngest person on the vessel she could not help to feel just a tad entitled to it.

“They’re just riling you up,” Bethany said softly as she joined Ellen on her pillow to stare up at the rafters with her. “They’re not serious.”

“Bullshit.”

“Okay, so maybe they are,” Bethany chuckled, rolling over to wrap her arms around Ellen. “But there’s always the possibility she would say no.”

“Right,” Ellen said sarcastically. “I don’t even know why it bothers me so much. I haven’t seen her in eleven years.”

“You do know why, Ellen, don’t be petulant. I literally just told them you’re more mature than they are, and you’re making me a liar,” Bethany said with a joking note to her voice, reaching up and pinching the girl’s cheek.

“I wonder if she would even recognize me? Or I, her?” Ellen pondered, and Bethany pursed her lips.

“I bet a hundred sovereigns she would,” her lover said soothingly. “Maybe when everything calms down, you and I can go alone. Sister wouldn’t have to come out of hiding for us to travel to her, regardless of the Seeker. We can just say we parted ways from them a while ago.”

“True,” Ellen muttered, thinking hard on whether or not she could handle it if she met Evelyn again and the bond they shared was gone. She liked to remember her twin that way, as the one that attacked grown men when they came for her sister.

“We’ll figure it out, stop worrying,” Beth whispered, placing a kiss on her cheek.

Ellen rolled over onto her side and pressed her face into Bethany’s bust, the soft flesh a balm to her as always. “Going near my sister is dangerous for me. My father would no doubt be keeping close tabs on one of his spawn so brightly lit. I don’t think the reunion with him would be quite as sweet.”

Bethany didn’t reply for a few moments. “His opinion isn’t law, Ellen,” she whispered when she finally replied. “There’s nothing wrong with us, magically or otherwise. We’re not monsters for who we are, love.”

Ellen gave a snort. “He’d probably be pleased that I am partnered to a woman, just so he knows I am not breeding to spread my ‘disease’.”

Nothing more was said, Bethany just tightened her hold on Ellen and held her as the ship rocked from its anchored position. There would be a day she would see Evelyn again. But Maker only knew how nervous Ellen was to actually do it.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

“Whoaaa, easy there,” Evelyn said with a chuckle, tugging back a little on her young stallion’s reins. She felt Sera tense up in front of her, gripping the horn of the saddle tightly as she pitched forward a bit before Evelyn caught her with her left arm. The elf had gone pale in the sudden stop, so new to riding that she refused to do it by herself. Having grown up and thrived in cities, she’d never ridden one before Redcliffe Farm three days ago. Evelyn was well versed in horses, however, and took joy in feeling wind as she rode. Sera cussed at her nearly the entire way to Redcliffe village proper, as Evelyn let the horse set his own pace at a fast canter. She couldn’t help but to laugh at the girl, thinking that she would have a heart attack if she dug her heels into his flank and really made him go.

“I’m gonna kill you in your sleep tonight,” the elf said flatly, her heart slamming so hard that Evelyn could feel it pounding through her body, “It ain’t funny, you arse.”

Cassandra was also chuckling lightly at the elf as she drew her black mare to a stop next to them, the midnight mount nickering around the bit in it’s mouth. “When we came over that hill–Oh, Maker–your face was worth a sovereign,” the Seeker said, as Sera’s sour gaze swung away from her agitating lover and narrowed on her instead.

Evelyn looked ahead to what caused her to stop her mount, a shimmer of green floating in front of the closed wooden gate to Redcliffe. She had learned within the past few days that she could remain at a certain distance of the blighted things and not suffer the pain until she had prepared herself. They would have to dismount and take the rest of the trip down the hill on foot to engage the rift and fight their way to close it. “Well, at least we saw it before it saw us,” she sighed, releasing her hold around Sera’s waist as she moved back to allow the elf to slide down from the saddle first before following her down.

“This is a… _handy_ … little piece of information, Sharps,” Varric agreed with a nod and an unfunny pun, sliding down from the pony provided to the dwarf. “Keeps our skin intact, and I’m pretty ecstatic about that.”

Evelyn let her eyes scan the area in front of them for strategic positions, noting that this sealed rift was somewhat higher from the ground than others, and wondering if she would need that small jut of rock to stand on to reach the thing, or if she could put Varric and Bianca on it instead for a tactical purpose. She sucked on her bottom lip, hands on her hip daggers, tapping their hilts thoughtfully.

“All right,” she finally said, turning around to address her small party. “Varric, that ledge of rock down there gives you a slight elevation advantage, so you and Bianca will post up there. Sera, there’s a perfect point halfway down the hill that will give you a clear sniping view, and play to that long shot talent of yours. Cass, you and Ser Blackwall can lead in, and I’ll go invisible and sneak around to put my back to the gate, and try to engage the rift from there. Solas… you know what to do, try and stay out of sight, my friend.”

Evelyn reached into her side pouch and took out a vial about an inch long and full of a silvery powder, and threw it on the ground. The substance covered her armor, rendering her into a blend of shadows, undetectable by the eye for the moment. She took off down the hill at a run to get into place, well aware of the two warriors taking their positions behind her, then she finally whipped around and pulled her daggers free as the sealed rift reacted to her mark and opened.

Long, spiny fingers emerged, rapacious and horrible, from the rift, and Evelyn faced the gaping maw of a terror demon. Rushing forward, she got caught in some kind of cast green circle, the magic making her feel heavy and distorted, like she was made of rubber and being pulled from both ends. Confusion flooded through her, her eyes even moving as if stuck in one position, and being held tightly there.…then it was like she was exactly where she needed to be, and she was moving faster than she’d ever moved, light as a feather and just as agile. She stabbed and swept around the chosen foe, making a quick killing strike beneath its long arm. The nasty mouth ripped open in a screeching wail as it dissipated back into the rip in the Fade.

Her eyes fell on another terror laying into Cassandra, and she found herself spanning the distance between them before the thought to do so even finished forming, moving over the hill faster than light could follow. Evelyn glanced to see Cassandra was moving in a blur of blows and blocks with her shield, her jaw set as she grit her teeth in concentration, but that split second of glancing cost Evelyn as the thing flipped an arm out and knocked her clean across the road, right into the middle of one of the green cast circles. She was heavy again, struggling to pick herself up and move out of the circle, taking her a lifetime longer than it should have. Something with this rift was completely different than the others she’d closed.

“Cover me!” Evelyn bellowed when she’d pulled free from the magic, dragging herself to her feet. She threw her hand up towards the rift, trying to crack it, to debilitate the enemies on the ground and stop more from falling out. It seemed like time itself was speeding up and slowing down in turns. She had a queasy feeling that was more than just the temporal whiplash, knowing that it was somehow connected to her business here. The mages had done something, and whatever had been done was not going to be a good thing for the Inquisition.

The rift was easier to close for good than Evelyn had thought. It only took one try, when she figured the effects would stagger into several attempts. She sat down on the ground hard, lowering her head between her knees to catch her breath and ease the nausea beginning to roll through her. She let her daggers fall to the ground with twin thuds and brought her hands up over her head, her brain in hyper speed. She needed the mages. That is why they were here. She had to get up and keep moving. But the twist in her gut wouldn’t let her budge.

Cassandra was the first to kneel beside the Herald, laying a concerned hand on her shoulder. “Herald?” she asked, and Evelyn gave a slight nod.

“I’m fine, Cassandra,” Evelyn assured her, albeit weakly. “I just need a moment to catch my breath. That was no ordinary rift.”

“Indeed,” Cassandra agreed with a grim look. “It felt as if it changed time itself, if that makes any sense at all.”

Evelyn nodded, wiping at her face with a wrist. “That’s exactly how it felt, if that’s how it would feel.”

“Can we just go? I’ve had enough creepy for today, thanks. Would really like a drink. A strong one. Whiskey, yeah?” Sera said with a wrinkled brow, clearly also disturbed by the sensation. She picked up Evelyn’s daggers as Cassandra helped the human rogue to her feet, sharing a quick look with the warrior about how haggard Evelyn’s face appeared.

The guards at the gate thanked them for taking care of the thing that had been there for days, stopping all commerce to the village as no one could use the road. Blackwall whistled for the horses, taking them to be stabled for the night. They were going to get rooms at the inn after speaking with Fiona, then set out for Haven at first light. Sera pulled the still slightly disoriented Evelyn to her side as the gates swung open, admitting the party and their mounts.

As they made their way through the village, a young man in a hood, an Inquisition buckler shining on his chest, ran up to them, “Your Grace,” he panted to Evelyn, leaning down with his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

Cassandra squinted at him. “You’re one of Leliana’s agents. What have you found?”

The boy stood up straight and leveled his shoulders. “We spread the word of the Inquisition’s coming, but you must know that we were not expected.”

Evelyn felt her brow raise in surprise. “Not even by the Grand Enchanter?”

The boy shook his head. “If she knew, she told no one,” he answered.

Evelyn exchanged a worried glance with Cassandra before giving the scout a nod of approval. “You may go. Thank you.”

He pulled his arm across his chest and nodded his head in a salute before jogging past them and up the road that led out of the village. Cassandra gave a frustrated sigh from beside Evelyn, shaking her head in disgust, “this feels wrong,” she said with more than a little concern.

“Let’s just keep our eyes open, see what is going on. I can’t leave the village until we figure this out,” Evelyn murmured, green-blue eyes scanning the people that dotted both sides of the road ahead of them.

It wasn’t long before answers began coming.

“Inquisition!” A young man in mages’ robes hailed them the moment their feet hit the stairs in the village center by Lake Calenhad. “I regret to inform you that Magister Alexius has not yet arrived, but you may have audience with former Grand Enchanter Fiona until he does.”

 _Magister Alexius? What the fuck is this shit?_ Evelyn gave another glance at Cassandra, who gave a slight nod, agreeing to see Fiona. She looked back at the boy, giving him a similar nod. “Take us to Fiona, please,” she requested, and the mage gave a bow, pointing to their right.

“Of course,” he said, “right this way.”

Evelyn turned back to her companions. “Blackwall, make sure the horses are stabled. Varric, you should procure rooms for the party, make sure I have my own. Solas, Cassandra, and Sera come with me to meet Fiona.” She paused, then added an apologetic, “Please. I didn’t mean to sound like I was ordering anyone—”

“Right, Herald,” Varric said with a grin and a wink, moving past them and towards the inn. “I’ll see you guys when you’re done. I’ll come running if I hear screaming.”

The four of them plus their escort ended up following Varric directly into the inn, as it seemed Fiona awaited them in the tavern on the bottom floor. She was a slender elf with short, dark hair, the laugh lines around her eyes the only age-telling mark about her. She was a clever mage with a good mind in politics; to see her face wrinkled with confusion as Evelyn approached her did not sit well with the rogue.

“Herald. Inquisition,” she greeted them with an amiable nod, questions in her large eyes. “I must say, I am surprised to find you in Redcliffe.”

Evelyn’s eyebrow shot up, and she looked at Cassandra and Solas, the two of them having been with her when the woman in front of them stopped them in Val Royeaux to issue this very invite. “Um,” Evelyn said to Fiona when her eye shifted back to her, “you asked us to meet you here in Val Royeaux, about a month ago. We came as soon as we could, but we’ve had some obstacles we had to take care of on our way here.”

Fiona gave Evelyn a frown, her eyes flickering to the Seeker standing just behind Evelyn, her hand on her sword in its sheath, ready to draw at a wrong breath. “That is not possible,” Fiona said quietly. “I have not been to Val Royeaux since before the conclave.”

Evelyn found herself giving a mirthless chuckle, as if Fiona had told a bad joke. “You sure about that? I am certainly not one of the humans that can’t tell elves apart, and it looked an awful lot like you,” she told the mage, who nodded her answer.

“I have been here, taking care of my people. Things are changing for us. You should know… We have agreed to an indentured servitude to the Imperium.”

Evelyn’s mouth fell open in surprise, and Cassandra positively squawked indignantly, nearly drawing her sword in her flood of confused anger at the mage’s words. “Tevinter? How could you? Are you _trying_ to unite all of Thedas against you?” Cassandra asked in a horrified tone. “First you rebel against the Chantry and the Circles fall, and now you’ve allied with _Tevinter?_ Have you lost your mind, Fiona?”

Fiona’s eyes flashed at Cassandra’s phrasing. “No, Seeker, I have _not_ lost my mind, but it is no thanks to the Chantry. I-- what would you have me do? Men, women, _children_ , Seeker! All with nowhere to go. We are struggling here, and our presence is wearing out its welcome. It is only a matter of time before King Alistair comes and kicks us out. I had no choice, and the Imperium is sympathetic and offered sanctuary.”

 _I’ll just_ bet _they’re sympathetic,_ Evelyn thought to herself with a derisive snort. _If this is her idea of “freedom” then I have to find El before she’s taken by the Imperium under this agreement._

“Okay, okay, if it wasn’t you we encountered in the capital, who was it?” Evelyn said, calling attention to the matters at hand. “Because we need mages to close the fucking hole in the sky. We can debate your poor decision making later, lady.”

Fiona’s nostrils flared at Evelyn’s opinion, and she drew herself up into her full height. “You will have to wait for Magister Alexius. I no longer hold any authority here. As for what you saw in Val Royeaux, it sounds like magic at work. Who the caster is, I do not know. I can only assure you it was not I that invited you here, Herald of Andraste.”

Evelyn heard Sera give a soft scoff behind her, and it annoyed her because she knew what the elf was thinking, probably the same thing that Cassandra was thinking: They had wasted their time here. But Evelyn wasn’t about to give up. She would stay and meet with this magister from Tevinter, and see what the hell was going on in Redcliffe before she left for Haven. She couldn’t not fix this before she left. She couldn’t let this be it for her sister, or her sister’s like.

“It appears that we have no choice but to wait on this Alexius,” Evelyn muttered, glancing at the bar but nearly falling over when Cassandra hit her with a warning glare so strong it felt like a punch to the face.

“I would strongly advise you not to drink before meeting with this Tevinter,” she said roughly, clearly annoyed with the situation.

“My personality is more pleasant when I’m slightly buzzed, you have to agree,” Evelyn pointed out but Cassandra’s jaw did not relax.

“I think your sober person is the one that should talk to this man,” Cassandra returned. “The one that vehemently stands its ground, Herald.”

“Killjoy,” Evelyn mumbled darkly, kicking a chair out from a table and collapsing into it.

Cassandra sat down across from her, a deep frown carved into her features. “I do not understand when this accord was made. Not but hours ago our last missive stated no change in Redcliffe. Surely they can’t have made a snap decision on something so serious?”

“I agree, it certainly was timely,” Evelyn muttered, shooting a glare around the fairly busy tavern as Sera sat down at her side like always. She could feel eyes on her, but did not see the source. She couldn’t keep staring around to let her observer know she felt them, so she nudged Sera lightly, letting her hair fall over her face to obstruct vision of her lips. “There’s someone watching me, but I don’t see anyone. Keep your eyes and ears open when this dipshit gets here, okay?” she whispered just loud enough for the elf to hear her. Sera didn’t reply or give any indication that Evelyn had spoken at all other than lightly pressing her thigh against Evelyn’s under the table.

“Curious that they would fight for freedom only to subjugate themselves again,” Solas said in his slightly disinterested way, choosing not to sit at all. He stood at attention with his back to the wall, his grey eyes on the room at large.

“Unless that was their plan along,” Cassandra brooded, eyes snapping to the tavern door as it opened again.

An older man in robes of blue and silver entered the bar, his dark eyes scanning across the room until they fell directly onto Evelyn, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes on his face as he moved towards them. A younger man in yellow robes followed close at heel, giving them a nod of greeting when the men drew even with the Inquisition agents.

“Herald of Andraste, what an honor I hold this day,” the older of the two simpered, sweeping into a low and elaborate bow of servitude. “I am Magister Gereon Alexius, the emissary of the Imperium. I trust dear Fiona has told you of our agreement?”

“She has,” Evelyn replied shortly, eyeing the man up and down. “She told us everything but when the deal was made.”

The magister gave her another sickly sweet smile that did not show in his eyes. “It was, I do believe, divine providence that I arrived when I did. You see, Arl Teagan was none too pleased with the number of mages taking refuge in Redcliffe, and was preparing to set them afoot. I came just in time to… persuade the arl otherwise and meet with our lovely Fiona.”

“And what are the terms of this… indentured servitude?” Evelyn asked, watching as Fiona drew nearer to hear the conversation between the Herald and her new master.

“The mages will return to Tevinter with me to work. They will serve a period of ten years before being given citizenship and full rights of the Imperium.”

“What does the work entail?”

“Scribes, assistants, soldiers—” A loud gasp from Fiona cut Alexius’s reply off before he could finish and all eyes turned to the elf.

“Soldiers?! You said they wouldn’t be military! There are children—!” she said in a shrill tone full of her indignance at the words the magister said.

“And I am sure that one day they will be productive members of the Imperium, but until then they are ours to do with what we like, Fiona. Or did you want me to return you to the arl?” The threat in his tone was clear, and Fiona bowed her head and said no more.

“And where is Arl Teagan now?” Cassandra asked suspiciously, her hand still resting on the pommel of her weapon, her lightning reflexes still waiting for a reason to draw it.

He turned his gaze on Cassandra almost unwillingly, seeming to want to keep his eyes on Evelyn. “The arl has left the village,” he said in near-convincing regret. “The tensions were starting run a little high, and we agreed it would be for the best for now.”

“Lies!” Cassandra snarled, raising just a bit on her seat, but to her credit, she did not rise completely to her feet and pull her sword. “Arl Teagan did not abandon his people when the dead were rising from the lake and attacking the village, nor when the darkspawn tore through this area. Why would he choose to leave now?”

“My lady,” the younger man said, catching everyone’s attention. “I assure you, no harm came to the arl or his family. They left by their own choice.” Something in his tone made it believable, and Evelyn considered his phrasing.

“Oh, my manners! My son, Felix,” Alexius said, again picking up his faked jubilance. The young man gave a nod, but his father barreled right on, not wanting to let Cassandra keep on talking. “Now, then. You come in search of help to seal this so-called breach, correct?”

Evelyn gave a nod, sitting forward. “Correct.”

Alexius gave a self-satisfied grunt and sat down in a chair at the table with the Inquisition agents. “So, you need mages, and I have them,” he said, sounding way too happy about that fact for Evelyn’s taste. “This won’t come cheap, you know.” His eyes lit up when Evelyn tucked a lock of hair behind her ear with her left hand, the first time he actually saw the mark. “I’ll say! That’s it, isn’t it? The anchor that seals the rifts. My, my. How intriguing.”

“I didn’t expect anything for free, I’m not a child,” Evelyn started to say to take his greedy stare away from her hand, but movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention. Felix had suddenly stumbled forward towards her, his dark eyes rolling back in his skull. Evelyn’s reflexes shot her to her feet to catch him before he hit the floor, and she felt him press something into one of her hands.

“Felix!” Alexius exclaimed in panic, shooting to his feet to gather his son into his arms from Evelyn’s, who was careful not to show the slip of parchment he’d passed to her without his father’s knowledge.

“I’m sorry, my lady Herald,” Felix mumbled disorientedly, reaching for his head as if to stop it spinning. “Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, ser,” she returned automatically, curious at the way Alexius panicked as if he knew what was wrong with the man immediately. It seemed the boy was ill and played into it to pass the message.

“Come, let’s get your powders,” the father murmured soothingly to his son before looking up at Evelyn. “We shall have to reconvene on this matter, Herald. I shall write to you. Fiona, I should like your assistance at the castle.” Fiona snapped to at his beckon, following the two Tevinter mages out of the tavern in a haste.

Left alone, the four companions all shared a look before Evelyn glanced around, sitting back down to look at the message Felix had given her:

_“You are in danger. Meet me in the Chantry.”_

“You know those times you’re right about things you really wanted to be wrong about?” she said aloud to them, and Cassandra gave a deep sigh.

“Told you. Can’t trust ‘em,” Sera said, shaking her head. None of them needed to see the message to know what it said.

“Come on, we have somewhere to be,” Evelyn muttered back, not wanting to get into that with them right now. This son of a bitch reeked of bullshit, but that had nothing to do with the magic in his blood. It was that he was a conniving snake, period. He could be a snake with a dagger as well, but it didn’t change anything but the colors of the scales. But like all snakes, he could be weakened and killed. He had shown them a big weakness just moments before when Felix feigned a bout of sickness for his benefit and he had reacted with such bald emotion. If push came to shove and Felix was the only bargaining tool she had, Evelyn was not above using him to achieve this goal. It had to be done.

She stood up and walked over to where Varric had neatly posted up in a far corner, flicking a sovereign down onto the table top. “Top shelf whiskey for me when I come back? I’m gonna need it,” she said to him, and he gave a grimace.

“That bad?” he asked lowly, and Evelyn gave a bounce of her eyebrows without saying anything more. “Damn,” he sighed, giving a slight head shake.

“I’m going to go have a prayer at the Chantry,” she said offhandedly, knowing the clever dwarf would get what she was saying. “Maybe if I’m lucky, the Maker will send me a sign.”

“Good luck,” he replied with a nod, and she knew he’d understood.

If we’re gone too long, he’ll come look.

Once they were outside, Evelyn reached an arm over and flung it around Sera’s neck playfully, pulling the elf’s ear close to her mouth. “Did you see anything, imp?” she whispered, and Sera made a show of giggling coyly before turning her mouth to Evelyn’s ear to reply.

“A mage, tall, kinda big. Watched sticky-tongue more’n you, though, when he got there.”

Evelyn gave a big grin and tousled Sera’s hair, not completely for show. The girl was a sharp eye, and many people tended to forget elves could hear so well. These talents of hers gave Evelyn the chills of the good kind when she thought about it, but she couldn’t allow herself to think about it right then. She couldn’t afford to be distracted when she had literally been told she was in danger, no matter that it had been a week since they’d been together that first time and it had eaten at her libido every day of that week span.

The Chantry wasn’t far down the walk from the Gull and Lantern, so it did not take them long to reach it. Evelyn felt her hand begin to vibrate as if a rift waited behind the door, and it made her look up at Cassandra curiously. “My hand… there’s a rift near. Surely not in the Chantry itself?”

Cassandra’s jaw tensed even more than it already was, and she rushed past Evelyn to open the heavy doors that lead into the sanctuary, and sure enough there was a rift. The rift was spouting the same green cast circles that Evelyn knew now she had to avoid because it slowed her down to almost nothing. The rift was already open, there were demons stalking all through the Chantry, but there was already someone inside defending it. Yet another mage, this one a handsome young man with a spectacular ebony moustache and smooth dark skin, firing spell after spell at a shade that kept coming right at him. A single shot of fire from the tip of Solas’s staff made the stranger glance towards the advancing group with a pained look as if he’d been waiting forever for them to arrive.

“A little help here, please?” he called in an unmistakably Tevinter accent, using the shaft of his staff to deflect the clawed fingers of the shade trying to grab him by the front of his bright orange robes.

His plea was unnecessary, as Cassandra had already drawn her sword and manned her shield, jumping directly into the fight with her usual gusto, and Evelyn heard arrows from Sera’s bow whizzing past her ears as she ducked in with her rib daggers in hand. Just as she’d thought, this rift was identical to the one they’d encountered outside town. She was super careful to watch her step as she danced her way through foes until the thrumming in her hand began to pitch upwards as the rift weakened above them with every demon slain. She raised her hand and let it anchor to the tear, the whine making her ears itch deep inside as the energy ran through her arm and into the rift before it finally shattered, leaving the usual ringing silence in its wake.

“Magnificent! It really does work! How does it work? Aha, you don’t even know, do you? You just toss your little hand up and wiggle your little fingers and-- poof! Rift is all sealed,” the stranger said in a delighted voice, clapping his hands together enthusiastically.

_These Tevinters sure are a cheerful bunch of bastards. It’s fucking creepy._

Despite the way she wanted to drop to her knees and pant her way back to her feet the way she would normally do, Evelyn forced herself to remain upright to look this Tevinter mage in the eye, ignoring the rivulets of sweat streaming down her face. Cassandra did not bother sheathing her sword after the rift was closed, its sharp tip now pointed in his direction as well as a notched and drawn arrow in Sera’s bow. Evelyn wiped her blades on her pants as she stared at him, trying to read him, and having to fight back a smile when she saw his horrified expression when he watched her clean her daggers. _A beauty queen, this one,_ she thought to herself, taking in his very well-kept appearance. _A vain man, indeed._

“Identify yourself,” Cassandra barked before Evelyn could open her mouth, making the younger woman give her a glance to tell her to calm down.

“We’ve had a rough day, don’t mind my friend,” Evelyn said disarmingly, jerking her thumb at Cassandra who gave her a light scowl. “To whom do I owe the pleasure of spilling blood with me?”

“Charming,” he murmured sarcastically, a hand coming up to smooth one side of his moustache thoughtfully. “I am Dorian of House Pavus,” he went on with a much more jolly tone and a dramatic bow. These Tevinters sure knew how to embellish themselves.

“Yeah, okay, where’s Felix?” Evelyn said, looking around. She had not seen him in the chaos of the fight, but now that it was over he was still not there.

“I imagine he is finding it difficult to get away from his father after playing the sick card. Alexius does like to play mother hen when Felix is sick, you see,” Dorian replied easily. “I have been following them since they left Tevinter, and I found this monstrosity here when I sent Felix with my note.”

“You sent the note?” Evelyn asked flatly. “Why, how do you fit into this?”

Dorian began to pace back and forth on the spot. “Did you notice anything strange about this rift in comparison to others you’ve sealed?”

Evelyn nodded, eyeing him. “Yes, it seemed like effected the movement. Slowed it in some places, sped it up in others. Can you tell me why?”

Dorian gave a single nod. “I was Alexius’s apprentice,” he revealed. “I worked with him on a project that was just that… time manipulation.”

Evelyn’s mouth fell open in shock, and she heard Solas speak from behind her. “If true, that is fascinating. Dangerous, yes, but fascinating nonetheless.”

“I do not like the sound of this,” Cassandra ground out, her sword never wavering from Dorian’s place at its tip. “If you are his apprentice, then why are you here?”

“Was his apprentice,” Dorian corrected her, holding up a finger. “His ideals and mine aren’t compatible, therefore the apprenticeship ended. I am here for Felix, and because Alexius is going against everything he ever believed in just to get to you,” he said to Evelyn, who rocked back in surprise.

“Me? What the fuck does he want with me?” she asked, and Dorian gave a dry chuckle at her execution of language.

“Your mark,” came a voice from behind them all, and Evelyn looked over her shoulder to see Felix limping his way towards the group. “He is obsessed with the anchor in your flesh, and has gone beyond his creed to obtain it.”

“Good to see you got away,” Dorian said in greeting to Felix, giving the man a nod. “Is your father going to notice you missing?”

Felix gave a shake of his head. “I should have known better than to fake a bout, but it was the most sure way I knew I’d avert his attention from you.”

“Why is he obsessed with the mark?” Evelyn asked Felix, who winced as if the question was a blow to the face.

“He has joined a cult that has sworn to someone they refer to as the Elder One. They call themselves the Venatori. My father fixed time so that he would make it here before you, to gain the mages’ allegiance before you could. I do not know the extent of his plans, but I do know that this isn’t my father. He would never do anything like this, and I am scared for him, but he will not listen to reason.”

“Rifts like these will keep popping up,” Dorian cut in, gesturing to the space the tear had been a few minutes before. “Unless we stop whatever it is that Alexius is doing here. If so many of them open at the same time, it could tear the fabric of time itself, and then the breach won’t be an issue, anymore. We will have much bigger problems than that.”

“He’s gone through all of this for little old me? Why, I didn’t even think to get him anything,” Evelyn said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Dorian gave a genuine smile at that. “Get him a fruit basket, everyone loves those.” He and Evelyn shared a chuckle that Sera scoffed at.

“Oh, bugger me, the fuck I step in now?” she groaned loudly, and Evelyn shook her head at the elf before looking back at the pair of men in front of her.

“And people wonder why we want to keep a close watch on mages,” Cassandra scoffed, finally pulling back her sword and sliding it in its home. “This is a ripe example of how dangerous unchecked magic can be.”

“Yes, thank you for pointing out the obvious, Seeker,” Evelyn sighed wearily, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Okay, so what do you suggest we do?” she asked Dorian and Felix, who looked at each other before Dorian answered.

“I say we play into his hand, and see what these Venatori represent,” he said. “I think he will be busy fussing after Felix for quite a few days, perhaps long enough for you to report back to your base and discuss a plan. Whatever you decide to do, I want to be there if you confront him. For now, Alexius does not know I am here, and I should like him to remain ignorant of the fact. I will certainly be in touch.” With that, he gave a slight bow and turned to leave before glancing over his shoulder and calling back to Felix, “Do try and be careful, don’t get yourself killed.”

Felix waved a dismissive hand in Dorian’s retreating direction with a sad look in his dark eyes. “There are worse things than dying, Dorian.” Looking back at the Herald with an earnest expression, a beseeching tone in his words to her. “Please try and figure this out. Surely you can plan around a trap if you know it’s a trap?”

“Perhaps,” Evelyn allowed reluctantly. “I shall await your father’s invite for another meeting, and return home in the meanwhile. I don’t think we should stay here tonight.”

Cassandra made a noise of agreement. “It would be unwise to linger overlong. We shall set out for Haven as soon as we leave.”

* * *

“We can still seek out the templars,” Cassandra said immediately once they were walking back towards the tavern to collect Varric.

“They both need an Inquisition sized boot up their arses, just pick one,” Sera grumped, her arms folded across her chest. “Ruinin’ everything, these pricks.”

“Let us not forget this new development of time manipulation,” Solas said softly. “That is an issue that needs addressing.”

Evelyn nodded, taking in the words they spoke, and not daring to add her own opinion. She felt like the mages had been fucked over, and not entirely by their own fault. Just judging by tidbits of conversation between people they passed, she knew that not all of the mages liked this allegiance they’d been volunteered for. She already knew that she would argue for coming back here to confront this Alexius, she knew that she had to help these people. If she turned her back on them and went for the templar support just to avoid this conflict, what would that say about her? Is that the example she wanted to set for the people that followed her?

_What would Ellen think of me if I did that?_

Varric was still seated at the same table when they made it back to the tavern, a bottle of golden whiskey resting by his hand just as Evelyn had asked. She grabbed it before she spoke a word, tugging the cork free with her teeth and spitting it across the floor, then turning the bottle up in a very pointed way, eyes finding Cassandra’s while doing so. Varric watched the display with a slightly interested look, seeing the blood on her pants and splattered across the Seeker’s chest plate when the pair had left the tavern in not so much of the stuff.

“Interesting prayer, Herald?” he said with an eyebrow raised, lifting his own mug of ale for a sip.

“Enlightening, indeed,” she returned, handing the bottle to Sera despite the growl from Cassandra. “Did you pay for the rooms?”

“Yeah, I—”

“Get a refund. We’re leaving. I’ll explain once we are far from here.” She looked at Solas and jerked her head towards the dwarf, who was rising from his seat to go speak to the barkeep. “Solas, stay with Varric, eyes and ears open,” she said so low that only he and Sera could hear.

“Of course, Herald,” he murmured, moving aside to allow the women to pass to the door.

“Stables,” was all Evelyn said as she passed through the open door behind Cassandra with Sera on her heels.

Sera caught up to Evelyn when they were back outside, handing her bottle back to her. “The one from earlier heard us. Might wanna keep a watch on our arses,” Sera said lowly, not daring to look at Evelyn to show they were conversing.

_I know. I baited him._

“Let him follow. One man against us? We’ll feed him to the Seeker.” Both of them snickered at the thought, especially with how annoyed Cassandra was with them both for what she considered drinking on duty.

“I heard that,” Cassandra said sharply from right in front of them, making them both laugh harder. “Insufferable, both of you.”

“You enjoy it, don’t deny it,” Evelyn smirked, winking at the Seeker when she shot a glare over one shoulder.

“Just as much as I enjoy stab wound to the gut,” Cassandra replied not without a hint of humor behind the words, making Evelyn grin wider.

“Well, you make getting wounded a living, so what does that say, Cass?” she asked nonchalantly, reaching over and twisting her fingers through Sera’s when she felt their hands brush as they walked.

Another sharp look was her answer, but she could see the corners of Cassandra’s mouth pull upwards into a slight, very slight smile. Evelyn took it as a sign she was indeed right about the Seeker enjoying the company of the two younger, more free spirited women, despite all the grumble and bluster she put off.

Blackwall was just leaving the stables when the three women walked up, and he gave them a curious look. “I settled them in well, Herald,” he addressed Evelyn with a nod, and she gave him an apologetic look.

“For naught, it seems. We have to leave as soon as Varric and Solas join us. We need to make it back to Haven as quickly as we can.”

She gave Blackwall a significant look that plainly said “later”, and kept walking until a stable boy finally appeared to gear up the horse for her. She tied her pack and Sera’s pack to the hind quarters while Sera nursed the bottle of whiskey they were sharing, then made a motion for Sera to mount first when the stable boy had strapped her saddle back into place.

“At least the horses got to feed and have some water while we were bent over a table in the tavern, getting pounded in the ass by the mages,” Evelyn said light heartedly once they were out of the village and back on the road to Haven. This trip wouldn’t take the nine days that the trip here had taken, now that there was some speed beneath their asses.

“What happened? I tried to lip read across the room, but there were just too many fucking people in that bar,” Varric said from just behind her atop his pony.

“I swear I’ll tell you and Blackwall both what happened once we are far away and I’m sure we’re not being followed, because we were being watched in Redcliffe.” Evelyn leaned down into Sera’s ear. “Still keep your senses sharp, my imp. You’re very good at this, and I plan to thank you-- thoroughly --when I can.”

Sera turned her face to meet Evelyn’s eyes with a bit of a pout. “Was gonna have you all to myself tonight. Bed n’ everythin’. Stupid Tevinters ruined it all,” she muttered back, and Evelyn felt a pang of guilt. She’d put Sera off several times in the past week because of sharing a quarters with Cassandra, and the fact that the Inquisition camps were not as closely intimate as they once had been a few weeks before. There were soldiers coming and going at all times, and strangers taking patrols. Evelyn did not care for being an exhibitionist, no matter how many people heard that first time with Sera. Despite Varric’s teasing, it had not been intentional, and he was lucky she didn’t have proof that it was him that stole their clothes that night. Because she and Sera both felt like it had been him.

“I’m sorry to be such a spoilsport,” Evelyn sighed, pressing her lips to the side of the elf’s head. “Haven shouldn’t be more than a few days’ travel, and when we get there and I finish with my council meeting-- Maker help whomever stands between you and me. I’ll plow right through them to get to you.”

“I’m holding you to that, Shiny. So far, you’ve just been a lot of pretty talk.”

“Hey! _You_ were the one with the need to prove you weren’t a ‘pillow princess’,” Evelyn said, mocking Sera’s accent when she quoted her. “So don’t whine about it now. You’re just gonna have to wait and see if I’m truly all talk.”

“I’m gonna be dead before I find out, all this waitin’ you’re makin’ me do.”

“Good things come to—”

“—all who wait, yeah fuckin’ yeah.” Sera slumped back against Evelyn’s chest in a sulk.

Evelyn chuckled at the girl, shaking her head. She was beyond adorable. She was the best thing that had happened to her in a very, very long time. She did not dare to think she was in love, but she was very aware that there was an immense possibility of it inevitably happening in the future. It was a feeling she had not felt since she was barely more than a child, and she knew now in her more experienced mind that it wasn’t what she thought it was with her and that person.

_But my imp? Maker, the way she makes me feel, no matter what she’s doing. How magnetic it is between us, the force of her energy mingling with mine is like walking into a fire, but the burn is ecstasy, not pain._

Her left arm around Sera tightened, pulling the girl further against her without conscious effort, and she smiled when she felt Sera’s free hand come to a rest on her leather covered arm, holding it to herself. “Hey,” Evelyn whispered. “Take the reins. Trade me the whiskey.”

“Are you friggin’ loony? Me, tellin’ this thing what to do?” Sera said incredulously, hand digging into Evelyn’s arm beneath her jacket.

“I am loony, but not about this,” Evelyn replied in a normal tone, placing the leather reins into Sera’s hands. “He knows what he’s doing. You only need to lead him when the path splits and we must turn. Just hold on to them so he’s aware you are in control.” She took the whiskey bottle and turned it up, making sure to keep one eye ahead of them on the path.

She did not take the reins from Sera for several hours, having no need to do so. After the first hour, the imp had relaxed a bit because she was beginning to trust the horse, letting him do most of the navigation unless Evelyn told her to turn. They were both on the verge of drunk when they stopped to let the horses drink from a pond near the main road, and Cassandra was not quiet about her displeasure.

“Maker protect us. If we were attacked right now, it would not be pretty,” she lamented to no one and everyone all at once.

“Please,” Evelyn snorted. “I’ve been drunker than this and held off ten men at once, and only with a busted beer bottle.”

“Anyone that would attack us would be far removed from drunk farmers in a tavern brawl, Herald,” Cassandra pointed out, and Evelyn opened her mouth to reply before shutting it.

The Seeker made a fair point. Evelyn looked over at Sera, who was stretching beside her. “Maybe getting drunk wasn’t… wasn’t… what was I saying?” She completely forgot the point of whatever she was going to say when she saw a flash of skin from the elf’s midriff when her shirt tugged up in a stretch.

Cassandra gave a groan from the other side of Evelyn’s mount. “For the love of all that’s holy. You are a mess, Evelyn Trevelyan,” she said exasperatedly, but Evelyn took no offense.

“I know,” she said with a shrug, watching the imp shamelessly. “But I’m a mess with exquisite taste,” she added, giving Sera’s posterior an appreciative look as the elf bent forward to touch her toes, none the wiser of Evelyn leering like a creeper behind her.

_“Honestly.”_

Varric gave a deep chuckle from somewhere down the embankment, clearly enjoying the way Evelyn was riling the Seeker up for a rant.

“Shut your mouth, dwarf,” Cassandra warned him, and the man raised his hands up in front himself.

“I’m just an innocent bystander in this, Seeker,” he said with a half grin, not letting her growling phase him.

“Bystander you may be, but you’ve not been innocent a day in your life, Varric Tethras,” Cassandra grumbled, taking her horse by the reins when it finally finished its drink. “I’ll be up on the road; we have little daylight left, and I’d like to not make camp until we absolutely must.”

Blackwall watched the woman walk up the hill, then turned an inquisitive look towards Varric. “Is she always like that?” he asked, giving a jerk of his thumb towards the top of the hill.

Varric gave a full throated laugh, shaking his head. “You haven’t seen her in a bad mood. This is our dear Seeker’s good side.”

Blackwall’s blue eyes widened, and he gave a huff of disbelief, but Evelyn gave a nod to Varric. “He’s right,” she agreed. “She’s prickly on the outside, but warm and gooey on the inside, I just know it.”

Varric laughed again, pulling his folded piece of parchment and his small quill from a hip pouch. Evelyn watched him open it and flip open a small ink pot before it dawned on her what he was actually doing. “You’re writing this down?”

“Of course I am, are you fucking crazy? This is prime stuff, can’t let it go on without being immortalized in print.” Varric didn’t even look up as replied, and they all watched him scribble for a minute until Solas cleared his throat, catching Evelyn’s attention.

“You may want to know that we were followed by the mage we encountered in the Chantry.”

“Dorian? I think he’s harmless, for the most part. I don’t know why, but I believe his story. He wanted to be a part of this, doesn’t surprise me he is following us back.”

Solas grimaced. “He’s not alone,” he added, watching the Herald’s face carefully. “A mage from the tavern joined him in the trees about a mile or so back. The mage that Sera noticed in the tavern, point of fact.”

“How far back are they?” Evelyn asked, beginning to scan the trees around them.

“Maybe a half mile. They heard us talking about watering the horses. They will do so with theirs once we have moved on.”

_That’s not very stealthy of them. Perhaps they aren’t so much following us as giving us space? I really didn’t get the feel from Dorian or Felix that Alexius gave me. That guy is a whole other level of creepy._

“Just keep an eye on them. If they step out of line, we will deal with them,” Evelyn decided, nodding to herself. She wanted to give Dorian a chance, at least. This mysterious mage could be on their side, as well, just a bit more shy than Dorian.

“Understood, Herald. That being said, who shall take first watch when we do camp? The Seeker makes it sound as if she does not even want to pitch tents this eve.”

“It would be faster to make our bedrolls beneath the stars,” Evelyn admitted as she took the reins of her horse to lead him back from the water. “So I could see the advantage. I can take first watch with whomever wants to volunteer.”

“Me,” Sera said automatically, but Varric made a noise of disagreement.

“No offense, Buttercup, but you two tend to get distracted easily when left to your own devices,” he said gently, waiting for the temper to blow, but Evelyn surprised him.

“He’s right,” Evelyn told Sera regretfully. “I think it safe to say we shouldn’t take a watch together until we get the hormones out of our system.”

“Fine,” Sera grumbled, pleasing Evelyn that she didn’t kick up a fight about it.

“I’ll take first watch with the Herald,” Blackwall offered, and Evelyn gave him a thumbs up.

“Then you and Sera can take second watch,” Evelyn said to Varric, who nodded.

“At least it’s not Baldy,” Sera muttered as she pulled herself into the saddle before Evelyn climbed back on behind her.

“Praise the gods,” Solas mumbled back, making Evelyn shake her head at the two of them.

“Enough, you two,” she sighed, taking the reins Sera handed her and pressing a heel into her horse’s flank to get him moving. “Don’t antagonize him, imp. He means well, I think. He just doesn’t know how to interact with you,” she breathed into Sera’s ear once they were ahead of the group again.

“Instead of trying to learn, he gets all elfy-fuckin’-elf and lectures me on the past glory of ‘our people’. ‘We’ll never be as great as we once were’ and all that sobby pish.” Sera snorted. “I don’t know about him, but _I’m_ fine. Great, even.”

Evelyn’s mouth curled up into a grin. “You  _are_ pretty great, yeah. I can’t argue with that.”

“Shut it, you tit,” Sera scolded her, but Evelyn heard the smile in her voice. “Always trying to make my face hot.”

“Not the only thing I want to make hot, my imp,” Evelyn replied in a tone that only Sera could hear, and she felt the elf shift on the saddle in front of her.

“Stop. That’s you playing dirty, innit?” Sera said shakily, and the tone made Evelyn give a feral grin at the effect her words had on the girl.

Evelyn made a negating noise in her throat, leaning her chin down on the elf’s shoulder while her right hand began lightly rubbing across Sera’s stomach. “Not even close to how I play dirty,” she whispered promisingly, nipping at the bottom of Sera’s sensitive ear. “I could show you, if you want.”

“Not now!” Sera hissed, reaching up and pulling Evelyn’s wandering hand back down from her breast and to her waist. “But ask me again when we get back,” she added in a softer tone, intertwining their fingers together in front of her.

“Assuredly,” Evelyn agreed, squeezing the hand in hers affectionately.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Evelyn was lying on her back hours later, staring up at the stars above her while she and Blackwall stayed awake to let the others sleep in peace. They had made a fire, ate some ram meat Varric killed, and the other four in their small party went to sleep almost right away. Riding all day and some of the night had taken the last bit of energy out of them, and Cassandra had finally relented to eat and sleep, feeling that the twenty miles between them and Alexius safe enough. Everyone knew that they were being followed, but all had drawn the conclusion that it wasn’t meant to be a sneaky sort of follow when they saw their campfire not even a half mile down the river bank from where they had let out their rolls. No one trying to be sneaky would be so brazen, and Evelyn almost wanted to trek down to their camp and ask the mage with Dorian where he fit into the tapestry that was slowly being woven around them.

Varric’s snores were enough to wake the dead, as usual, so no beasts of the night bothered to come within yards of the camp, both she and Blackwall hearing the grunts of bears but never seeing a single hair of one. She chuckled to herself about it, and Blackwall turned his blue eyes to her in question.

“Varric,” she explained with a fond smile. “With him sleeping, nothing ever bothers camp. He could take down the Frostbacks if he truly wanted.”

“Aye,” Blackwall laughed back, his eyes crinkling in the firelight. “I had a friend in the Marches, a dwarf. He could make the very air around him move when he slept.”

“You’ve spent time in the Free Marches?” Evelyn asked curiously, and he nodded.

“I was born there,” he said with a bit of pride in his voice.

“So was I. My father is the bann in Ostwick. Where were you born?”

“Markham. Just a piss spot on the map. But I loved it.” His eyes were far away as he watched the flames move before him.

“How did you end up with a sword?” Evelyn pushed herself off the ground and sat up, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her head on them.

“I was… a soldier,” he returned, not looking at her. She took note of his pause.

“And then you became a Grey Warden. Why?”

“Got into a spot of trouble,” he mumbled uncomfortably. “Don’t like mentioning it, really. My life before the Wardens seems hollow now. When I became a Warden, I had purpose… after I joined, everything was erased. Being a Warden is a sort of absolution.”

“So I’ve heard. Well, I found you in seclusion and helping people. That doesn’t scream ‘bad man’ to me at all. I think you’re all right, Ser Blackwall.” Evelyn gave him a disarming grin. “Not all of us here are saints. Except Cassandra. Pretty sure she’s straight and narrow.”

“By ‘not saints’, what do you mean?” Blackwall asked suspiciously, and Evelyn gave a careless shrug.

“Solas is, and has always been, an apostate; Varric has more shade than a leafy tree; Sera has sticky fingers; and I’m an alcoholic murderer,” she told him nonchalantly, as if she were giving him the weather report for the evening.

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes taking in her youthful face and her slight stature, making the same mistakes that many men before him had made, thinking her too pretty to be dangerous. Her beauty only made her more dangerous. “Murderer, eh? Mind explaining exactly what you mean?” he finally asked, and Evelyn gave him a single nod.

“When I was a child, I had aptitude with blades. Short swords, throwing knives, and daggers, in particular. I nurtured that talent with my older brother’s trainers behind my father’s back. Someone noticed when I was fourteen, and offered me two hundred sovereigns to take out this gutless fuck that I hated anyway because he couldn’t keep his comments to himself when I passed him in town. That couple hundred sovereigns was the base of what became my runaway fund. I planned to get out of my father’s house before I was eighteen and legal to be married off or sent to the Chantry.”

“So, you’re an assassin?” he said slowly, obviously conflicted with this revelation.

“When it suits me, yes,” Evelyn replied with a casual shrug. “I do not go out of my way looking for work, if that’s what you mean. But if the price or reason is right, I do not hesitate to do as I am bid.”

“So what price does a person’s life run?” he asked, and she did not miss the cold tone beneath his words.

“These days it’s free, if you haven’t noticed in the past week,” Evelyn said dryly, not offended at all that he was offended. Not many people would understand exactly what she stood for, so it did not surprise her this seemingly do-gooder would not agree with her choice of profession.

“That’s different--”

“Is it?” Evelyn interrupted lightly, not looking at him, but at the fire between them. “We’ve killed bandits, templars sworn by Divine rite, mages by the bucket loads. Who is to say that each of these men and women that have fallen before our blades were inherently evil? Everyone we kill has a purpose, has an ideal, has a dedication to some creed. Every one of them is someone’s child, or parent, or sibling, or lover. When I take a contract, I do not delve into the personal life of the target because I do not wish to know that the man who stole a pair of diamond earrings from my proprietor’s wife is a father who loves his children but cannot stop himself from taking things that are shiny. Nor do I wish to know that the templar I just ran through was the teenaged son of some worried mother out there, who is dying under the pain of not knowing if her baby will come walking through her door when the fight is finished. How is it different, Warden?”

Blackwall only made a passive grunt, thinking on her words. Evelyn did not press him, nor did she really care if he answered her at all. She had her beliefs, her moral code, and he had his. After several minutes passed he spoke again, only it was another question. “You said price and reason. What are your reasons?”

“I do not tolerate slavery,” she said automatically and unapologetically. “I do not like watching people being mistreated by others that think themselves superior. I do not allow a known rapist to escape my attention, that goes double if it is a child they have violated… I make _them_ hurt. I do not like abuse of power, politically or otherwise. I don’t play around with fuckers that have it out for the mages in particular, meaning I don’t like most templars. I’ve only known three that I could stomach for any extended amount of time. And the Maker and His Bride help the dumbass that threatens or insults people I care about.” She glanced over her shoulder at this last line, looking directly at the dark lump on the ground that was a sleeping Sera. When she looked back, Blackwall was studying her again.

“Aye,” he said after a pause. “I agree, those are good reasons. We can agree on that and talk of something else. I want to like you, if we are to work together.”

Evelyn chuckled to herself, shaking her head. “I don’t think you liking me is going to be a problem. I’m rather charming, if I say so myself.”

“I don’t form my opinions on others based on charm,” the Warden said gruffly, not looking at her. “I base them on merit and heart. If you’re truly what you say you are, then you certainly have neither.”

Evelyn outright laughed at him. “Ser, you definitely do not know to whom you speak. I have both, and in multitudes. I just do not waste what is precious on anyone less than deserving.”

Blackwall said nothing for the moment, only peering into the blackness around them, listening to the sounds of the night forest around them. Evelyn didn’t press him for further conversation, instead leaning back on her elbows and getting comfortable for the time being. She knew their time was winding down to changing watch shifts, and her body was feeling the fatigue of the entire day on its shoulders. She wished she had assigned Cassandra with Varric instead of Sera, but there were two main reasons she did not. She wouldn’t be accused of favoritism on Sera’s behalf, and she did not want Cassandra to be off with Varric’s head before sunrise. She did not pick Solas to watch with Sera because there would have been a flat out refusal from her imp and Solas would not keep his scathing remarks about the girl to himself. She would wake up to arrows in his throat.

“You care about her, don’t you?”

The sound of Blackwall’s question pulled Evelyn from her thoughts and she focused her gaze on the man again. “I’m sorry? To whom are you referring?” she asked, confused. They had not talked of any individual person, so the query threw her off.

“Sera. You and her, it’s not a fling, is it.” It was not a question.

_Oh. Sera._

Evelyn weighed in her mind the response she would give. If this would help him see past her profession to the person sitting in front of him, she would be honest. She needed her people to trust her, to be on board when she gave the word. She couldn’t afford to lie to him, even about something so personal.

“No, it is not a fling. She is my best friend. I am very lucky to have her at this time in my life. She has been a tremendous stress relief, in more ways than one.”

“It does make a difference to have someone to help you shoulder the world,” he sighed with a weary nod. “Is it love?”

Evelyn shrugged at this question, because she honestly had no clue if it were or not. “It could be, one day,” she allowed carefully. “But we’ve only known each other a month, no matter that it feels like she’s been in my life the whole time. Love is a tricky thing. There is definitely a deep affection for her in my heart.”

“You’re smarter than I’m giving you credit for.”

“Probably,” Evelyn agreed with a faint smile. “I just have a separate perception of the world and how things work in it. I’m not a monster, Blackwall. I’m still human. You don’t have to worry that I’m leading you to the Void with me.”

“I’m sure I’ll become accustomed to your… less desirable traits. Just will take some time, that’s all.”

Evelyn stifled the chuckle blooming in her chest, not wanting the man to think she was mocking him in any form. Her behavior was paramount. “It still makes Cassandra’s eye twitch when she thinks about it,” Evelyn said with a touch of pride to her voice. “But don’t let her fool you; she adores me.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you assume the command of this party? By mark default?”

“Yup,” Evelyn said with just a hint of bitterness. “You’d think the Seeker was perfect for my job… but I’m the one that is marked. The one they think Andraste herself flung back into the mortal world to do her work for her.”

“I didn’t mean to say I think you’re a shite leader. To be honest, I think your strategy and execution of planning is sound. I wondered because the Seeker obviously has years of experience on you. You can’t be more than a teenager.”

“What I lack in years I make up for in candor,” Evelyn said cheekily, shooting the bearded man a wink, making him crack a small smile, his beard twitching with the expression.

“Fair enough, Herald. Fair enough.”

Not too long after this last conversation, Sera drug herself from her bedroll and made her way over to the fire, shivering in the cool night air. Evelyn gave her a sympathetic look and slipped out of her long leather coat, standing up and slipping it around the elf when she came near. Sera gave her a look of gratitude through her half lidded, sleepy eyes.

“Thanks, Shiny,” she murmured, and Evelyn nodded back.

“Anytime, my imp. I’m gonna catch some sleep. We have a long ride ahead and I don’t want to pass out in the saddle.” She touched Sera’s face, half glancing at Blackwall to see if he were looking at them. She wanted to kiss the imp goodnight.

“Go on, then,” Sera yawned back, slipping her arms into the sleeves on the jacket and pulling it tighter around her small frame.

_Ah, fuck it. He knows, anyway. It’s just a kiss._

Evelyn grabbed the lapel of her jacket Sera was wearing, tugging the girl forward and to her lips. She made the kiss as chaste as she could allow herself, and it was still a soft lip lock, full of the affection for the girl that she’d tried to explain to the man earlier. Sera glanced at the Warden as they broke away, a smug look pulling at the corners of her generous mouth.

“Sleep tight, Shiny.”

“As long as you keep those bears back when Varric wakes up and the natural deterrent has stopped.”

Sera gave her a blank look. “I didn’t understand half of that, Shiny. No bears, got it.”

Evelyn shook her head, and leaned forward to press a kiss to Sera’s forehead before making her way to her bedroll, exhaustion leading each of her steps to a slow crawl. When her head hit the mat, she rolled over and pulled Sera’s bedroll closer just to have her scent within range, thinking the whole time how sad and pathetic she must seem.

_Fuck ’em. I don’t care what they think. I like my imp near when I sleep, big deal._

* * *

The trip back to Haven was not meant to be. The sun had risen naught an hour before a messenger bird flew down in front of Evelyn as she groggily tried to wake herself in her bedroll. It pecked the tip of her nose sharply and the rogue sat right up, wide awake now and pissed.

“Bloody fucking bird! Give me that and shoo! Give your master my curses!” She snatched the slip of rolled paper from its talons and the raven took flight with a loud call, deftly clubbing Evelyn on the head with its wing feathers as it took off. “You’re a regular funny bird, aren’t you, you little duster!”

Ignoring the peals of laughter coming from Sera and Varric, Evelyn rubbed her nose to see if the blighted thing had broken skin, but her hand came away blood free. “Stupid thing,” she muttered angrily, unrolling a message from Leliana. She scanned the thing and gave a heavy sigh. _Here we go again._

“Fallow Mire. A group of Inquisition soldiers were taken hostage by a local clan of Avvar. We have to go get them.”

“It isn’t terribly far,” Cassandra yawned, stretching in her own bedroll, arms reaching to the heavens. “Perhaps two days by horse.”

Evelyn gave a nod, pulling on her boots quickly and lacing them tightly. “The reports say there was a demand from the Avvar chief’s son that I face him for the soldiers’ lives. Have you ever seen an Avvar?”

“I have,” Cassandra answered shortly in a clipped tone that told Evelyn all she needed to know.

“I’ll assess once we’re there, size him up, see if I can take him alone. If I cannot, I trust we will do what it takes to get these people back to Haven still breathing?” Evelyn meant taking every Avvar in attendance out without hesitance, and Cassandra knew it.

A firm nod confirmed what Evelyn already knew. Cassandra would support her. “We will do what it takes, Herald.”

“Evelyn,” Evelyn corrected, and Cassandra shook her head as she packed her bedroll back into a saddle bag.

“That was spoken by our leader, not our friend.”

Evelyn was confused, pausing in her quest to strap her plate mail back over her jerkin. “Are they not the same?”

“Yes and no,” Cassandra said with a smirk. “Think on this, Evelyn. Before the Inquisition, would you risk your life for a handful of men and women you’d never met?”

 _Fuck no._ Evelyn’s mouth pulled down into a frown. “No, I wouldn’t have.”

Cassandra raised a dark eyebrow to accentuate the smirk still pulling at her own lips, and the realization of what Cassandra was saying hit Evelyn hard. She’d changed, drastically, without barely recognizing it for what it was.

“You’ve made your point. Thank you.” Evelyn gave a nod to the Seeker, who smiled approvingly back at her. It made a warmth spread through Evelyn to see it, knowing that she was finally starting to resemble someone the Seeker could be proud to fight beside. The knowledge gave her the strength to take a deep breath and steel herself for yet another task of the Inquisition.

 

* * *

**Somewhere on the Waking Sea**

The steady rocking of the ship wasn’t enough to lull Hawke to sleep. She laid in bed with Isabela, who was passed out on her right with her unruly raven hair scattered across both of their pillows after a rather vigorous round of sex. Usually Hawke would have been snoring lightly before Isabela could even shut her eyes, but ever since she read Varric’s last letter she had not been sleeping well. When she managed to close her eyes, all she could see was red lyrium and all she could hear was Meredith’s final scream as it consumed her and made her flesh a vein of itself.

This night was no different.

She gave up, and carefully extracted herself from the arm lazily slung over her bare midriff, climbing out of the bed in the captain’s quarters and making her way over to the desk where a few candles still burned. She collapsed into the chair, leaning forward onto the desk with her elbows, bringing her hands up to cradle her slightly throbbing temples. Three years had passed since the last time she’d seen red lyrium, and she had hoped then it would be the last.

She didn’t want to think about what it meant that it was so far south, that it had been in the Temple of Sacred Ashes, or that it was anywhere near her best friend.

She didn’t want to think about what it had done to Bartrand, even if he was always a dick, and she didn’t like to remember the look in Varric’s eyes when they’d discovered the small piece his brother had stashed in his manor in Hightown.

She didn’t want to think about any of it.

She wanted to think about shipment manifests and tight ropes, about wind in her face and the light spray of salt water on her sun-burned skin. She wanted to think about the light feeling she got in her chest when she looked up to the wheel and saw her indomitable captain with an utter serenity to every part of her being as she snapped off orders with a bottle of rum in one hand and the wheel in the other. She loved being on the sea with Isabela.

But that was all about to change. She could feel it in her bones. The Inquisition was on everyone’s tongue in every port they’d anchored, the deeds of Ellen’s sister the roar of every tavern. She was no longer the focus of Cassandra Pentaghast’s attention. She was no longer on the run.

_Then why in seven hells am I debating on going straight to them now that I finally have the freedom to do what I want?_

She rubbed her hands on her face hard, not really believing herself. She had hated being the Champion of Kirkwall, she had hated being the center of attention just because she was a decent person that didn’t like assholes that fucked things up for everyone. She stood up for mages, she stood up for the little guy, and it made her some fucking _hero_ for everyone.

She angrily shoved back from the desk, standing up and beginning to pace furiously back and forth across the floor, her bare feet barely making a sound as she went. This internal battle was ridiculous; she knew she didn’t want to do this. It was her fucking _morality_ and _honor_ driving her to make this decision, and she hated it.

“Could you brood a little more quietly for fuck’s sake?” A familiar voice thick with sleep carried through the semi-dark to Hawke’s ears, and she cut her eyes over to the bed. Isabela hadn’t shifted in the rumpled bed linens, but she was clearly awake.

“Sorry,” Hawke mumbled, pausing in her pacing to run fingers through her disheveled hair. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I’ve been awake since you got out of bed,” Isabela groaned as she rolled over on her back with a long stretch. The pirate pushed herself up into a sitting position and swung her long legs over the edge, getting to her feet and coming towards Hawke. She slipped her arms around her, burying her face in Hawke’s neck as she brought her own pale arms around her lover. “What has you digging holes in my floor, sweet thing?”

“I’m a fucking idiot,” Hawke answered with a light scoff, closing her eyes when she felt Isabela press a kiss to her throat.

“Well, that’s not news, ” Isabela joked softly, beginning to rub small circles at the base of Hawke’s spine. “But why does that have you out of bed in the middle of the night?”

Hawke didn’t verbally reply, just turned her face to press a kiss to Isabela’s dark curls.

“You want to go to Haven, don’t you?” The question wasn’t truly a question, and Hawke’s eyes blurred a bit as a pang hit her heart. Isabela always knew what was on her mind, even when she didn’t say it aloud.

“It’s stupid, I know.”

Isabela shook her head at her lover, pulling her face back to look at Hawke in the candlelight. “Probably the dumbest thing you’ve said all day. But I… understand.”

Hawke found herself slightly surprised with the pirate’s response. “You do?”

“There’s a giant fucking hole in the sky, Hawke. Varric is alone with a bunch of whacked out Chantry birds, and is seeing red lyrium of all fucking things. I told you once that you’d rubbed off on me; I didn’t mean that in the way you usually rub off on me.” Long fingers skillfully danced up the Champion’s spine, giving her chills in all the right ways. “I don’t like this anymore than you do, sweet girl. I was thinking maybe we should dock in Jader, maybe leave Huey in charge of the route to keep the sovereigns flowing while we figure out how to put our asses in the fight again.” Those fingers slowly crept around Hawke’s sensitive ribs and came up to cup her small breasts in their palms, thumbs coming up to rub the tips into hard peaks again.

“You’d come with me?” Hawke breathed, her heart beat picking up with the small ministrations Isabela was giving her nipples at the moment.

Isabela chuckled lowly, ghosting her full lips across Hawke’s thinner ones. “If you think I’m going to let you run off by yourself and get yourself killed like some bloody fucking hero, you’re dumber than you look, love.” She pressed her lips to Hawke’s lightly, gently nipping at her bottom lip. “Now come back to bed… I can put you right to sleep, trust me.”

“You always have the best ideas,” Hawke murmured, sliding her hands down to Isabela’s ass, pulling the woman up so that she wrapped her arms and legs around Hawke’s lanky frame. “But you’re fucking crazy if you think you’re going to be on top this time.”

* * *

**Still Somewhere on the Waking Sea**

 

“I’m thinking about writing Evelyn,” Ellen blurted out to Bethany in the dark of their small shared bunk.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Bethany murmured sleepily, nuzzling further against Ellen’s chest.

“You don’t think it would piss your sister off?”

Bethany shook her head. “Like I said before, they don’t know that you’re still with her. And besides, I think the search for Marian is over. That Seeker has your sister doing all of the dirty work, doesn’t she?”

Ellen gave a heavy sigh, rolling over on her side, causing Bethany to groan with irritation at the sudden movement when she was comfortable lying half atop her girlfriend. But she readjusted with her, instead wrapping her arm over Ellen’s side and pressing her face in between her shoulder blades. “Talk to Marian about it in the morning if it’s bothering you, El,” Bethany whispered, tightening her hold on the storm mage.

“Yeah,” Ellen whispered back, biting her lip. “I wish I knew where Evelyn stood when it comes to our father,” she went on quietly, reaching for the hand around her middle and twining her fingers through Bethany’s. “If she’s on good terms with him or not. I don’t want the entire Trevelyan clan coming down on my head for being an apostate, but I’d like to see Evelyn and Maxwell again. I love my brother and sister. I want you to meet them, and them to know you.”

“All mages are technically apostates now, El. They can’t fault you for not being somewhere that doesn’t exist anymore.”

“You haven’t met my father or his siblings. My aunts would be scandalized, and my uncles would declare me heretical. Maybe I am… but I’m happy.”

Bethany pushed herself up onto her elbow, despite the fact she couldn’t see Ellen in the pitch black of their room. “Then why do you feel guilty? Why do you beat yourself up, if you’re happy?”

“Because I still can’t figure out what I did to deserve it,” Ellen answered honestly. “It’s like all of this bad stuff happened to me, then I met you and it all became good after. The darkest parts pressed on us in the very beginning, and now we are free mages and together despite it all. It terrifies me to imagine meeting my family all over again because I am scared they’ll take it all away from me.”

“There is only one thing that could take me from you,” Bethany said softly, releasing Ellen’s hand to guide her lover onto her back once more. She cupped her palm and let a small flame shoot up from its center, lighting the worry lines on Ellen’s pretty face. “And it isn’t your family, Ellen.”

Caramel eyes danced with liquid emeralds in the flicker of the small flame in Bethany’s hand, neither mage having to say aloud the things they read in each other’s gaze. Ellen pushed herself up on her elbows, reaching her face up to Bethany’s and kissing her softly. Bethany let the flame in her palm flicker out, then touched Ellen’s jaw in the dark, holding the girl’s face to hers. Ellen knew exactly where this was going when she tried to pull back and Bethany wouldn’t allow it. But Ellen was completely okay with that. She loved this woman more than she thought she could love anything, finding this single beam of light in a place as dark as the Gallows were. One familiar and overwhelmingly warm spot in such cold stones that surrounded her in Kirkwall, choking the life out of her. Bethany breathed it back into her. She gave her hope, and that was something for which Ellen would thank her for the rest of their days in every way possible.

“Light the candle; I want to see your face,” Ellen whispered when they parted, both of them breathing just a tad heavier with the quickly rising energy between them. She reached for the tail of her night shirt and pulled it over head in a single motion just as Bethany turned to light the candle on their bedside table, tossing it into a pile of dirty laundry just across the small space.

Yellow light spread across the room, and Ellen could see the way Bethany’s lips tilted up on one side as she also divested herself of her sleep shirt and came back to the circle of her arms, skin to skin. A thigh slipped up, nestling against her through her smalls and her hips twitched on reflex, grinding herself against the pressure Bethany applied as she settled on top of her. Ellen reached up and tucked the curtain of ebony hair behind Bethany’s ear as the older woman leaned down to kiss her again, making Ellen’s heart begin to palpitate wildly in her chest, reacting in ways only Bethany could make it do.

Everything about Bethany was soft. Her lips, her skin, her touch. Ellen had known women before her, but none like her. Most were whores, sure; she didn’t have a lot of choice when sneaking out of the towers to catch a drink and fuck in whatever tavern happened to be close enough to make it back to the Circle before daybreak. She’d also been with two other mages, but their couplings were never patient and thorough; there was too much danger in being caught together. But Bethany? Even their first few times together, hiding in the lowest depths of the Gallows away from prying templar eyes, were slow and full of emotions of which Ellen had no idea existed before meeting the woman atop her now.

Soon the slow touches quickened, and they were both lost to the sensation of the other. It was a paradox to be lost in something so familiar that Ellen could trace the curves of Bethany’s body by sheer memory without ever looking to see where she was touching. She still shivered every time Bethany led her hand down to the juncture of her thighs when she was ready to feel the physical equivalent of the pressure building in their chests, and this time was the same.

“Maker, Beth,” Ellen breathed when her hand slipped beneath the ruined smalls her lover still wore. The slick flesh she touched quivered in response to Ellen’s slow stroke of her sex, and Bethany whimpered into her ear, raising her hips so that Ellen could slide her smalls down her thighs.

“Don’t stop….” The words were said so quietly that Ellen could barely hear them over the sound of her own heart in her ears.

“Would never,” she promised, pressing her lips under Bethany’s jaw and slowly rolling them over so that Bethany was looking up at her with that pleading expression in her eyes, gnawing her bottom lip to hold back the cries she wanted to make as Ellen rubbed gentle circles over her. The overall effect made Ellen shake with her efforts to maintain dignity and not ravish the girl, knowing that Bethany preferred to be as quiet as possible when they coupled on board the ship; it kept Isabela’s jokes to a bare minimum and gave comfort that it didn’t provide the entire crew with entertainment.

Despite the gentle rocking of hips when Ellen finally pressed into her, Bethany was gasping and clutching her after just a few minutes, and when she came undone, the low whine she gave sent chills through Ellen.

_This body I’m holding… this soul, so precious…_

She didn’t keep going when Bethany fell limp against the straw mattress, but neither did she pull her fingers out of her. She ran her nose across Bethany’s collarbone, pressing lingering kisses across the top of her breasts, enjoying the rise and fall of her breath, the feel of Bethany’s fingers gripping at her short hair.

_One with her, always._

“Hold on,” Bethany whispered when Ellen made to pull out of her. “Stay inside… just a little longer.” She flexed her muscles around Ellen’s fingers to emphasize her wish, and Ellen only answered by locking lips with her again.

“Embracing you like this, it makes me feel like even death couldn’t take you from me, as if we are eternal,” Ellen said a few minutes later, her eyes closed and her head resting on Bethany’s chest, listening to the most beautiful sound in the world as Bethany traced her fingertips up and down her back lovingly. “I’ll never be alone again.”

“Like you can’t remember what came before, and all that matters is this moment,” Bethany replied in barely more than a whisper.

“Exactly.” Ellen picked her head up to look at Bethany’s face, inspired. She took in the delicate features, the shine of sweat still shining in the candlelight, the warmth and understanding in her eyes. “This reality, this oneness, it’s all I will ever need.” She swallowed the lump of emotion that rose in her throat with the next thing she wanted to say, willed the tears that gathered over her eyes not to fall. “Bethany… marry me? Please?”

Bethany’s mouth fell open and she quickly sat up so that Ellen readjusted to be straddled across her lap. Her eyes were wide with surprise, all the post-coital glaze gone with those two words. “Ellen,” she squeaked, looking torn between disbelief and excitement. “Are you—?”

“Serious?” Ellen cut her off with a happy grin, cupping her face with both hands and running her right thumb below her bottom lip. “I’ve never been so serious about anything in my life. I want you forever, I want to share my life with you, Bethany Hawke. Please do me this honor?”

“Maker, yes!” Tears filled Bethany’s eyes with her answer, but unlike Ellen, she did not force them back. They spilled over her cheeks as they dimpled with the wide smile that broke across her face, her hands coming up to circle Ellen’s thin wrists as she held her face.

“Yes?” Ellen couldn’t believe her ears, but there it was.

“Yes!” This last was yelled at the top of Bethany’s lungs, and it made Ellen laugh with glee before kissing her hard.

“We’re getting married!” Ellen yelled when Bethany pulled back to shove Ellen down onto the mattress, pushing her thighs apart.

“We are,” Bethany agreed with a giggle, running the flat of her palm up Ellen’s stomach. She leaned down and pressed her lips to her sternum, flicking her tongue out for a taste of her skin, slowly working her way back down the skinny mage’s body.

When Bethany’s mouth covered her sex, Ellen couldn’t stop the groan that escaped her throat as her head tilted back on the pillow-- but that was all that happened before the door to their bunk was slammed open.

Both women let out a yelp of surprise and dove for the sheets to cover themselves, looking up to see Hawke standing there in a loosely tied bathrobe, eyes alight with ire as she bared down on the bed opposite.

“Hawke!” Isabela appeared behind the taller woman, face etched in real concern as she reached a hand out to grab Hawke by the upper arm to stop her advancing on the two in the bed. She was also wearing a robe, but it wasn’t even tied at all, revealing every bit of her dark flesh beneath it.

But Ellen didn’t even bother trying to catch a glance like she might have under other circumstance. Hawke was radiating energy into the room that she had no idea someone without magic in their blood could project. Ellen couldn’t take her eyes away from the Champion of Kirkwall as she stopped directly next to their bed, glaring down at her alone.

“You want to marry my baby sister?” Hawke asked Ellen in a dangerously low voice, bright blue eyes daring her to lie to her.

Ellen swallowed against the lump that rose in her throat, feeling Bethany reach for her hand beneath the sheet and grasping it for strength. She wasn’t scared of Hawke-- not really, anyway-- but she respected the woman for the things she stood for and the things she’d done. And she really didn’t want to be tossed overboard before she had the chance to make this idea of hers a reality. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, looking Hawke dead in the eyes.

“Yes, I do. And I will.” There was a note of challenge in her voice, because if Hawke truly wanted to fight, she would; but she didn’t want them to hurt one another if she could save Bethany the stress of her sister and lover going at each other’s throats over Bethany’s virtue that Ellen had taken long ago. “I love her, and I’ll always love her. No one can change that.” _Including you,_ she thought to herself, but she didn’t dare say it out loud.

“Sister, please—” Bethany’s words were cut short by Hawke raising a hand in her direction without ever taking her gaze away from Ellen’s defiant visage.

“I’m only going to say this once, Trevelyan, so you better listen good,” Hawke said in that same low, deadly calm tone. “You ever, ever, ever hurt her… I will fucking kill you. Understand?”

Ellen didn’t balk, nor back down from the older woman’s stance. “I’ve never hurt her, and I don’t plan to start when she’s my wife. So you have nothing to worry about, Hawke.”

Hawke’s eyes looked at Bethany huddled up against Ellen beneath the white linen, softening immediately. “Are you sure this is what you want, Beth?” she asked Bethany, whom Ellen knew was the most precious thing in Hawke’s life as well as her own.

“With everything inside of me,” Bethany answered fiercely, the hand holding Ellen’s squeezing down in her conviction.

Hawke gave a single nod, then ran a hand through her messy black hair, a slight smile pulling up her lips. “Well, fuck. My sister beat me to the punch. Congratulations, guys,” she said with a light sigh, glancing over at Isabela.

The pirate gave her a dubious look, crossing her arms over her bare breasts. “Don’t get any funny ideas, Hawke, looking at me like that. The kids want to go tying knots and fucking building houses that’s fine, but—”

“—you’re married to the sea, yeah, I remember,” Hawke finished dryly, turning and walking out of the room with a single wave of her hand over her shoulder to bid Ellen and Bethany goodnight.

Isabela scoffed loudly, throwing her hands up in the air as she flipped around to follow her lover back to their quarters. “Bloody fucking great, like this is _my_ fault!” she was complaining as she slammed their door shut behind her, and they could hear her continue to rant as she walked back into the room connected to theirs.

Muffled arguing could be heard through the wall, but neither Ellen nor Bethany paid attention to what was being said; they were already looking at each other with mirroring relieved grins. Ellen pulled their clasped hands up and placed a kiss on the back of Bethany’s, making the older girl blush lightly.

“That went well, I think,” Ellen said hopefully, and Bethany giggled.

“I think so, too. Isabela isn’t too happy about it, but that’s only because she knows Marian wants to marry her, and the very thought of it terrifies her.” Both of them flinched as a loud thud hit the adjoining wall, followed by sound of breaking glass.

“It sounds like she’s arguing with herself, honestly,” Ellen said a moment later, noticing an absence of Hawke’s slow drawl while Isabela flipped her shit.

Bethany laughed. “She is. That’s the funny thing about Isabela: she wants to marry Marian just as much as Marian wants to marry her. That’s what bothers her most.”

Ellen blew out a hard breath of air, thinking about how lucky she was that Bethany was sane. “I hope we didn’t just start something they won’t be able to fix.”

Bethany snorted, rolling her eyes and lying back on the bed, tugging Ellen down beside her. “Ten more minutes and they’ll be screaming at each other in an entirely different way, El. Trust me.”

“Thank you for not being as complicated as some people on this ship,” Ellen said sincerely, turning over to bury her face in Bethany’s soft bust. “I’d still be just as in love with you, but I have to admit: I don’t envy your sister.”

“Only the truly stupid do,” Bethany chuckled, beginning to run her fingers through Ellen’s hair. “Do you want to try to sleep, since my sister ruined the mood?”

Ellen just nodded, curling her arm around Bethany. “I still have to work up the nerve to ask her about writing Evelyn. But after this, I think I should wait a few days for things to cool off.”

Bethany put the candle out with a wave of her hand, and they were shrouded in darkness once more. “Perhaps that is a wise idea. Isabela makes her cranky unlike anyone else in this world.”

Ellen gave a weak laugh, the warmth of Bethany’s body already proving to be a lullaby for her. “I can see why… Goodnight, Beth. Thank you for making me the happiest I’ve ever been tonight.”

“Likewise, Ellen. I love you.”

Ellen touched her face in the darkness. “I love you, too. Sweet dreams.”

Right when both grew quiet in the act of trying to fall asleep peacefully, another thud hit the wall, only this time the noise following it was completely different.

“Ow! Watch the table, Hawke, for fuck’s sake--- Andraste’s tits, just fuck me!”

“Yeah,” Hawke’s voice shot back, “you’re one to talk about watching the furniture when I have bruises all over the front of my thighs from the edge of the desk, love.”

Bethany gave an exasperated groan from beneath Ellen, reaching over to the table and blindly grabbing the candleholder, flinging it against the wall as hard as she could.

“Maker’s breath, be quiet!” she yelled, making Ellen laugh to herself when Hawke and Isabela both burst into giggles at Bethany’s exclamation.

“Sleep tight, love birds!” Isabela called in a singsong voice.

“I’m going to kill them both one day,” Bethany sighed despairingly, and Ellen just kissed the patch of skin her mouth was against.

“I’ll help hide the bodies.”

* * *

**Haven**

Evelyn’s head felt like it was about to crack in two. She’d just spent the better part of two hours in a near screaming match with Cullen, who was as stalwart as ever about his precious templars. The information Dorian had given them was enough to push Cullen’s fear of mages to the table, laying it out for everyone in the war room to see. Evelyn still had no idea where his fear was rooted, but she was now more sure than ever that something had befallen the man in his past, if Leliana’s soft assurances and pitying looks were anything to go by. Evelyn wanted to know more, so Leliana’s tent was where she was headed when a soft voice politely called out to her as soon as she stepped into the sunlight from the Chantry.

“I’m sorry, excuse me, miss?”

She twirled around to face the speaker, seeing a young soldier in heavy armor. His face was clean shaven without a speck of stubble from a beard, and his voice was a light tenor as if he were only coming into puberty and was trying to make it sound deeper than it actually was. All of that may have been true, if his height didn’t nearly tower over Evelyn’s own, and she was not a short person by any means. There was definitely something different about this man in comparison to every other man in Haven.

“Yes?” Evelyn said, still eyeing him up, trying to figure out what the mystery behind this stranger could be.

“I’ve been trying to talk to someone in charge, but no one will give me the time of day,” he explained, taking a step closer to her. She didn’t miss the way his eyes moved up and down her body, obviously assessing her in a more than friendly way. She fought the urge to roll her eyes at him.

“That’s because we were too busy verbally sparring in the council meeting to see anyone. Who are you?” she asked curiously, resting her weight on her back foot and crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve never seen you around here before.”

The soldier gave a dip of his head, his handsome features solemn. “My name is Cremisius Aclassi, and I am here on business.”

“What sort of business?”

“My boss would like to extend an invitation for the Inquisition leaders to come meet with him. We feel like our services could be invaluable to you.”

“What services do you provide?” Evelyn felt a spark go off in her head when he cleared his throat to continue speaking, and it sounded almost feminine. This was no man. This was a woman dressed as a man, and one that obviously lived as a man. She’d met a few people in her travels that were the same, and was respectful enough that she didn’t call him out on it.

“I am with a mercenary company called the Bull’s Chargers. We mostly work out of Nevarra and Orlais, you can ask around. My boss, The Iron Bull, would like for you to come and see us in action.”

Evelyn went over the boss’s name in her head, raising an eyebrow at Cremisius. “The Iron Bull?” she repeated, a ghost of a grin on her lips.

The soldier gave a fond smile. “Yeah. He’s one of those qunari. Not like the others, though, he’s never tried to get us to join up or anything like that. Just come meet him and see for yourself. You won’t be sorry for it.” His eyes drifted down her body once more, and Evelyn gave mental head shake at his lack of subtlety.

 _Looks like_ you _won’t be sorry for it, honestly._

“All right, where can we find your company and this Iron Bull?” she asked him, holding in an amused grin as he blushed when he realized he was caught eyeballing her.

“There’s a small pocket of those Tevinter mages, the Venatori or whatever they call themselves, that we’ve been tracking for a few weeks now. We have them surrounded on the Storm Coast, but they haven’t even noticed us. Meet us there, watch us take them down.”

The Storm Coast was about a two day ride north of Haven, and they still hadn’t received word back from Alexius. She supposed a short trip up there and back could be well worth their time if these Chargers proved to be a fighting force.

_Cullen could certainly use the morale boost. Poor bastard thinks I’m trying to make an army of mages._

“All right,” she heard herself say. “Let me share this information with the rest of the council and we will see about this trip north. Please, make yourself comfortable here. It will be at least until morning before we ride. Thank you, Cremisius.”

“Just Krem will do, ser,” he replied with a charming smile and formal bow. “Thank you for your hospitality… I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

Evelyn grinned widely at the barely concealed request for her name. “Evelyn Trevelyan, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Krem.” Her name had the exact effect she expected, as his face inflamed with blood rushing to it.

“My lady Herald, I had no idea—”

Evelyn waved off his apologies, chuckling at his fluster. “It’s fine, I get it all the time. Go have a drink in the tavern. I have one last thing to attend to, and then my imp and I will join you.”

“As you say, Your Worship,” he said hastily, giving a nod with his head and nearly running off towards Flissa’s in his embarrassment.

Evelyn shook her head, continuing the short walk to Leliana’s tent, where the spymaster was in conversation with one of her scouts, grave looks on both faces that never boded well for good news. Instead of interrupting them, Evelyn leaned casually against the center pole to patiently wait as Leliana wrapped up her business with him-- until she heard what was being said.

“I was afraid that he had turned,” Leliana said softly to the scout, who gave a nod in answer. “You know what must be done. Make it quick; he was my friend, once.”

“Whoa,” Evelyn said, standing up straight and taking a few steps towards the pair. “What’s going on?”

Leliana gave a glance over her shoulder at Evelyn as the scout gave her a salute in respect. “One of my agents has betrayed us. I am only doing what needs to be done.”

“So, you’re going to just kill him? And he was your friend?” Evelyn was incredulous, but she couldn’t exactly say why. Once upon a time, she would have whole heartedly agreed with Leliana, and would have supported her in this. But now, this sent cold chills through her, and she didn’t like it.

Leliana whipped around so fast that her chain mail chinked with the movement, and her hood nearly fell. “You find my decisions in poor taste, Herald?” she asked waspishly, obviously upset with her judgment being called into question.

“Just this one,” Evelyn insisted, stepping forward again. “At least have him brought in for questioning before making such a call, Nightingale.”

A grimace crossed the bard’s beautiful features and her nostrils flared in anger, but she turned back to the scout. “You heard the Herald. Bring him to me. Alive.”

“Of course, Lady Nightingale. It will be done.” The scout gave them both a bow before turning around and running out of the tent, leaving Leliana and Evelyn in complete silence.

“I would have expected you to agree with me, given your former profession, Evelyn,” Leliana said pointedly, dropping the titles and speaking to her as the friend she had become.

“Honestly? So would I,” Evelyn admitted, looking at the icy ground beneath their feet. Then she looked up to meet Leliana’s eyes. “But that didn’t feel right for you. I had to make you think twice. I am sorry if I seemed as if I were demeaning you in front of one of your men.”

Leliana laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “I’ve done enough that my men do not question me. This incident will not impact that.” She turned and bent over a map of Ferelden and Orlais that was spread across the table beside them, her back to Evelyn. “There must be a reason you sought me out, so go ahead and speak.”

“Yes,” Evelyn said slowly, tugging at the sleeve of her leather coat. “I wanted to ask you about Cullen.”

Leliana looked up at her, surprised. This wasn’t what she expected, Evelyn could see that plainly. “Cullen? What about him?”

“It’s become obvious to me that his thing with mages isn’t purely his templar training,” Evelyn said carefully. “I was just wondering if you…?” She left the question open ended on purpose, hoping that the spymaster wasn’t so put off with her that she wouldn’t answer her.

Leliana stood up straight and turned back to face her, clasping her hands behind her back. “I met Cullen under unfortunate circumstances, about eleven years ago. I was traveling with Kallian, King Alistair, and an infernal Wilds witch called Morrigan. We had to go to the Circle on Lake Calenhad to find help for a young boy in Redcliffe and to recruit their mages for the Wardens’ cause, as per treaty.” Leliana began to pace the small space, looking down at her brown leather boots as they moved across the melted slush beneath them. “Things had gotten well out of hand before we even arrived, and the Circle was on lockdown. The Knight-Commander had already called for the Rite of Annulment. It was Kallian’s quick thinking and silver tongue that saved those mages their lives. Cullen was a young man, likely not long from training, and served that Circle. When we found him, he was being held captive by a blood mage that had crossed over into abomination. He was delirious and nearly dead. The mages were using his life force to fuel the things that were going on in the room just above him. He begged us to kill him, kill the mages, just anything that would end whatever torment these people had caused him.”

“Maker’s breath,” Evelyn whispered, shaking her head at Leliana’s words. This certainly explained it. “If that happened to him, why the Void would he continue to serve? And in Kirkwall, of all places?”

Leliana gave a sad smile. “He has a good heart, and the best of intentions. Kirkwall has always been a catalyst of ugly in the vein of magic. I am sure that he felt that he would be useful there, given his experiences and how he chose to grow from them, rather than let that fear eat him alive.”

Evelyn considered her words, finding nothing but truth in them, and she understood now the sympathetic looks Leliana gave the man when his brow started to sweat with the thought of being surrounded by mages without templars to support him. “If you saw this for yourself, then why do you advocate for their freedom?” she asked her, and Leliana pursed her lips in thought.

“In that same Circle, we met a woman named Wynne. She was the strongest woman I’ve ever known. She was kind, and smart. She helped people. When she was but a girl, she had a romance with a templar in her Circle, and had his son. She gave the baby to the Chantry, as was expected of her, and did not stir in bitterness for it. I admired her. I admired her for what she had been through and for her ability to not be a harpy for it by the time we met her in her twilight years. Had it not been for Wynne, I may not even be standing here speaking with you now. She saved our lives in more ways than one. Last I saw of her, she had decided to connect with her son, and I pray to the Maker that he was kind enough to guide her. I fear I heard she passed, not too many years ago, saving the life of another.” Leliana smiled again, a hopeful, happy grin. “She was one with a spirit of compassion. That spirit allowed her to live long enough to do great things with us. Wynne is who I think of when I say mages deserve the chance to prove themselves. She was a better person than I, yet I have freedom. They should be allowed the same courtesy, yes?”

Evelyn smiled back at her, giving an eager nod. “Yes! That is exactly how I feel, and not just for my sister. I want everyone to have that same chance. We are all living, breathing things. We all do evil in our own ways.”

Leliana nodded in agreement. “I am glad to see such optimism in you, Evelyn. I am glad you can see the world this way… you remind me so much of Kallian.”

That stopped Evelyn short, and caused her to bite her lip in thought. “Is that a good thing?”

Leliana chuckled, reaching over to stroke the feathers of the bird she referred to as the Baron. “It hurts, sometimes, but it is a good thing, yes. The qualities you share were some of her better ones.”

“I wouldn’t have left,” Evelyn said without thinking. “You’re amazing. I can’t fathom how she could do it.”

A light blush dusted the bard’s porcelain skin with the words, and she tittered another laugh. “Kallian Tabris was a scoundrel when we met. But by the time she left, she was a gallant hero, and brave unto the point of stupidity.” Leliana’s hand went up to her throat, dipping down below her chain mail vest and coming out holding a leather thong, showing Evelyn a golden band threaded onto it. “But she is my wife. I know her better than anyone. Kal left on some noble campaign, and knew that it would cause me nothing but strife. I just pray she comes back to me when she is done… before the taint takes her.”

Tucking the ring back under her vestments, Leliana surprised Evelyn when she lifted up on to her tiptoes and pressed a chaste kiss to Evelyn’s cheek. “You’re as sweet as she is. Sera is lucky to have you,” she said softly, wistfully.

Evelyn felt her face flush with warmth, and she felt very hot all of a sudden. “I-- uh-- thank you,” she breathed, feeling more flattered than she’d ever felt. “Speaking of Sera, I guess I should….” She jerked a thumb in the direction of the tavern, and Leliana nodded.

“And I should get back to work. Good eve, Evelyn.” Leliana turned back to her maps, and Evelyn walked out of the tent feeling more enlightened on two of her advisors than she expected to be.

On the walk towards Flissa’s, Evelyn thought about what if she and Leliana were free to do as they pleased. Would she truly try to romance the woman, knowing the things she knew about her? She scoffed at herself, rolling her eyes. _Of course I would. She’s truly something unique, and I’ve always loved a bit of notoriety._

But when she stepped inside of the tavern and her eyes magnetically locked onto the elf that had her attentions, all thoughts of what might have been with Leliana flew right out of the door behind her before it shut. She was standing at the table they frequented with Varric and Blackwall, balancing an empty wine bottle on top of her head while Varric tossed peanut shells at her, trying to make her drop the bottle. There was a small pile of coin on the table top, and Evelyn knew right away that a bet was going on how long the elf could keep the bottle from falling. Both men were laughing at her, and her own face was red with the efforts not join in, a look of serious concentration in her stormy grey eyes.

Evelyn dug in her deep inside pocket, searching for her coin purse. She fished a few silver out of it as she drew even with the table, tossing them down into the pile. “If we win, we split it three ways, right?” she asked Varric and Blackwall.

“Sharps! Hell yeah, but she’s actually pretty good at this. She’s been doing it for about fifteen minutes now, and the bet is twenty,” Varric said, slapping Evelyn on the back.

Sera was determinedly not looking at Evelyn, face still screwed up in concentration. Evelyn gave a chuckle, winking at the two men with a knowing grin.

“Well, that sucks,” Evelyn sighed dramatically, turning to walk right back out of the tavern. “I’m going to have some alone time in my cabin, and if she isn’t there in two minutes, she’s getting locked out until I’m done.”

**_CRASH._ **

Evelyn turned back with a laugh to match both of their friends, Varric beating a fist on the table in his mirth. Sera was looking at her murderously, but that hunger she’d held for two weeks now was still there, and Evelyn couldn’t help but to lick her lips just to tease her further. The bottle lay in pieces of glass on the stone floor, and Blackwall was already counting out their portions of the coin.

“That,” Evelyn said smugly to her incensed imp, “is how I play dirty.” She made to swing a leg over the bench seat to join them, but Sera grabbed her by the front of her coat and pulled her towards the door.

“Bloody wanker, I’m going to show you dirty,” Sera seethed as she snatched the door open.

“But I have to meet with—” A single look from the elf shut her up, and she looked at Krem sitting at the bar, having witnessed the whole thing. “Krem, Varric will take care of you, just talk to that handsome dwarf right there!” she called to the solider whose eyes left her and Sera in search of the man Evelyn was pointing towards. “I’m sorry, I—”

“She has stuff to do!” Sera called out over her, finally pulling her out of the door and into the falling snow. "Stuff bein'  _me!_ "

With the way Sera shoved her against the cabin door and kissed her when they were inside, Evelyn just knew it was going to be a long night.


	10. Chapter 10

Sera couldn't remember the last time she felt so satisfied. Probably after she stashed that nug in that one arse biscuit's closet, then hid outside the window. She reckoned the nug itself might have been in heat, for it kept squiggling on her arm like it was humping it, and kept making squeaks. Sera still remembers how the wife ran around their bedroom in her small clothes and saggy old lady tits flopping about, screaming at the arse biscuit to do something. Sera grinned at the memory of when he'd finally caught the thing and nearly cried, for the nug bit the shite out of him, then proceeded to hump his calf... Rather vigorously so.

_Nah, that was good, but this was waaaay better._

She burrowed her face deeper into Evelyn’s neck as they lay together in the double bed inside her cabin, smiling softly when the human brought her hand up and cradled the back of her head. Her Shiny had made her see colors she didn’t know existed, had perfectly kept her promise that it was worth the wait. Despite there being walls around them this time, Sera was almost positive that half of Haven had heard the sounds of their activities. The only difference was now they knew their Herald was the best lay Sera had ever had.

“You seem sated,” Evelyn whispered in an amused tone, her short nails scratching against Sera’s scalp.

“Workin’ on my second wind, that’s all,” Sera mumbled stubbornly, not willing to admit she was worn out.

“You mean your fourth wind?”

Both of them laughed at the joke, but it was very true. They’d taken quite a few hours of the late afternoon and early evening to get to this part. The elf found that this part could quite possibly be her favorite, just lying in her Shiny’s arms and feeling her chest rise and fall with her breath. It wasn’t like she ever cuddled after bedding a wench, but this was no ordinary fuck. Oh no, Evelyn was more, _much_ more. The elf still couldn’t decide if that were a good thing or not. As much as she liked Evelyn, she didn’t forget the human was a noble; one in power, to boot. And with that thought of “Herald-y” things…

“Who was that in the tavern? The one you had to talk to?” Sera asked Evelyn, who chuckled.

“A mercenary that wants us to come see his company work on the Storm Coast.”

Sera rolled over on her back, her head turning on the pillow to look at her lover. “He looked… young? Maybe. I noticed him when he walked into Flissa’s. Something’s off about him. Dunno what, though.”

Evelyn laughed, and Sera swatted her lightly, frowning at the reaction when she was being serious. “Imp, he’s… a special kind of guy. He’ll probably never have to shave his face, and his voice will probably never grow deeper. But otherwise he seemed earnest enough. I think it will be fine.”

Sera’s face scrunched up with the half-assed explanation Evelyn had given. “What do you mean… oh.”

“Exactly,” Evelyn confirmed with a nod. “But I think it is polite to refer to him the way he obviously would like to be. His name is Krem. He seems decent enough, even if I thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head while he was looking at everything I have to offer up on the hill by Leliana’s tent.”

“Wait… what?” Sera lifted her head as Evelyn gave a shrug, a cocky grin on her face.

“He got an eyeful of all of this,” she said teasingly, indicating her bare torso.

Sera’s eyes followed the path the assassin’s hand gestured, taking in what Evelyn was saying and finding her old friend Jealousy was sniffing the air. “He best well just look, this is all mine.” She trailed a hand down Evelyn's chest and traced around the swell of her breasts, then up the side before pinching a dark pink nipple lightly.

Evelyn bit her lip as Sera bent forward and started kissing her way down the path her hand had taken, but Evelyn still had to make a quip.

“I can’t help that I’m the second sexiest thing on this side of Thedas, and people can’t get enough of looking at me.”

She hissed when her nipple was pulled into a warm mouth and sucked lightly, and Sera gave her a small grin when the archer looked up to meet Evelyn's eyes.

“The second sexiest thing?” Sera asked for clarification, and Evelyn’s grin grew wider.

“I _do_ have a twin, you know,” she goaded the elf, earning herself an eye roll and another swat. “I’m kidding,” she said as if it were obvious. She rolled over and braced herself on her hands over Sera, her eyes raking down the elf’s thin frame and back up again. “You’re definitely the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, my imp.”

Heat flushed Sera’s face, and she reached up to pull Evelyn’s face down to hers, kissing her thoroughly for the compliment despite the slight embarrassment she felt. Over a month of knowing the human and hearing the praise from her lips had not softened the effect of her words; they still made her feel a flutter in her belly, still made her blush, still made her speechless. It wasn’t merely the words themselves—words didn’t mean shite to her–but the fact that Evelyn’s eyes told her that the woman believed every bit of what she was saying. She really saw the elf, and liked what she saw.

“Honey tongue,” Sera murmured affectionately, shaking her head at Evelyn when they parted a few moments later. “Gonna make my face melt or something just as stupid.”

“You certainly seemed to like my tongue an hour ago,” the woman laughed, making Sera smile at the innuendo.

“Mmm… And I’m gonna like it again here in just a minute,” she retorted; Sera pulled Evelyn flush against her and opened her legs when the human rogue shifted between them.

“So, I guess this means I’m not ‘a lot of pretty talk’, anymore?” Hips rolled into Sera with the question, and Sera’s head went back with the jolt of pleasure that spiked through her from the action.

“Pfft!” Sera hissed weakly, she wasn’t able to put any sort of conviction into what was very much a lie. “I haven’t seen much, yet.”

“Uh huh,” Evelyn deadpanned, not believing her for a second. “So those scratch marks on my back appeared there all by themselves, did they?”

“I dunno know what you’re talkin’ about, Shiny.” The elf feigned innocence that was quickly broken, when Evelyn nipped her neck where it joined her shoulder.

“That so?” Lips traced the shell of her right ear, making Sera shiver from the almost ticklish sensation. “I guess I’m just going to have to remind you.”

_Maker, yeah, do that…_

As if she needed reminding. But that didn’t stop her from enjoying the attentions Evelyn showered on her for an indeterminable amount of time, from kissing every inch of her skin to making the headboard of the bed knock against the wall repeatedly; that is until someone banged on the door loudly, interrupting what was going to be a fantastic end to an eventful night.

Evelyn paused in her thrusts to glance over at the door, then back down at the girl on hands and knees with a perky ass jutting up at her; Evelyn’s fingers still remained buried inside, and warm walls squeezed to remind her. Sera threw a murderous look over her shoulder, wordlessly conveying that she would kill Evelyn if she stopped now to open that door. Evelyn didn’t pull out of her and merely shrugged, going right back to pounding the elf out of her mind, faster than ever before. The headboard continued to slam against the cabin’s weathered wall, the painting beside the bed shook from the vibrations.

The person at the door knocked again, even louder. This time there was a voice.

“Herald! Some people here have to sleep, and don’t want to listen to you rut with that knife-ear all night!”

Both women froze at the man’s words, and the voice was easily recognizable. It was Seggrit, the sole merchant in town. Before Sera could say a word, Evelyn was off the bed; the rogue wrestled on her discarded pants and pulled a tunic overhead, clutching one of her daggers in a tight fist.

“Shiny–” Sera tried to call out, but the door was already opened; Evelyn was halfway out before Sera could even pull her smock overhead to follow the assassin practically steaming with murderous intent.

Seggrit had already retreated to his cabin next door by the time both of them made it out into the snow. Evelyn kicked the door in and strides inside barefooted, and Sera jogged up to the doorway just in time to see Seggrit standing there with a vivid glare as he assessed the woman in front of him, obviously thinking she was all bluster.

“Would you care to reiterate what you just said?” Evelyn slid her knife behind in the waistband of her leather pants where the merchant couldn’t see; Sera knew without a doubt that the assassin could pull it out so quickly, that it may as well still be in her hand. The tone in which Evelyn asked him to repeat–at least Sera assumed it meant repeat–his words gave her chills, and not in a good way.

“I’m bloody well trying to kip, and all I can hear is that beast whore of yours—” he wasn’t _allowed_ to say anything else; Evelyn grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into a beam in the center of his cabin, her dagger pressed flat against the side of his head, behind his left ear.

Sera was so caught up in how Evelyn was reacting that the archer couldn’t take in that he was insulting her, and hadn’t processed it to be pissed off. She’d been called a knife-ear her whole life, it was like someone saying she was a blonde. But calling her a beast whore? _That’s a new one,_ she thought to herself. She was actually sort of amused.

“I think you should seriously consider your next words, old man.” Evelyn hissed through her teeth, eyes alight with a fury that Sera hadn’t ever seen until now. “Because if I don’t like them, I will slice off _your_ fucking ear. Apologize to her. _Now._ ”

“HELP ME!” Seggrit screamed as loud as the hand around his throat would allow, which was just enough that Sera heard multiple sets of feet start running in their direction, crunching in the snow.

“Wrong fucking words, dick,” Evelyn said icily, pressing the knife in harder. A thin stream of blood trickled down his neck, staining the collar of his white night shirt in crimson, and he began to sob. “One more chance, given to you by Andraste herself. Apologize. To. Sera.”

His eyes moved from Evelyn’s face to Sera, who was still just inside the doorway, frozen in shock. “I’m s-sorry,” he stammered, tears running down his face. Evelyn let go of him and took a step back with a disgusted look on her face, watching him as he collapsed into a shaking mess on the floor of his cabin, hand over the cut behind his ear.

“If you ever call her –or any elf– a knife-ear again, your ear won’t be the only thing I cut off of your body, do you understand?” Evelyn wiped the blood off her blade onto his shoulder before sliding it back in the waist band of her pants just as several Inquisition soldiers and Leliana appeared behind Sera.

“What is going on in here?” Leliana asked immediately, keen eyes scanning all three occupants, and narrowing when they fell on the crying man on the floor. “Herald? What happened?”

Evelyn turned around to face Leliana, a sour look on her face. “Ask him. I need to go for a walk before I change my mind and slit his fucking throat.” She looked down at Seggrit, who flinched away when she took a step towards him. “And you better tell her the truth, you sorry waste of air.”

“I will! I s-swear! Just d-don’t come any c-closer,” he begged, his sobs loud and irritatingly whiny.

Sera followed Evelyn out of the cabin, still in shock. No one had ever stuck up for her, especially not like that. She still couldn’t believe her Shiny had done it. Evelyn stopped just outside the cabin and turned to look at her, ignoring the small crowd now gathering around Seggrit’s open door.

“I’m sorry, imp…” Her tone was surprisingly gentle, for she misconstrued Sera’s expression as fear of her. “I shouldn’t have—”

Sera surged forward and hugged her tightly, eyes closing as she felt arms come around her. “No one has ever stood up for me like that,” she whispered, and Evelyn sighed in relief that the archer wasn’t upset.

“You’re not angry or… scared of me?”

Sera shook her head, still clutching to her Shiny. “Don’t go walking off barefooted in the snow, you daft tit. You’ll lose your toes.”

Leliana came out of Seggrit’s and gave a sharp jerk of her head towards Evelyn’s cabin, and the human rogue gently extracted herself from Sera’s embrace; she took the elf’s hand instead and intertwined their fingers together, walking to the cabin as Leliana requested. Once inside, Sera let go to put a log on the dying fire while the spymaster interrogated Evelyn. “You cut him because he interrupted you, asking you to be a little more quiet?”

Sera stood up straight, giving a wide-eyed look at her lover; she was half scared Evelyn would bolt out of the door and drag the man back here to tell Leliana the full truth. But Evelyn didn’t move for the door, though her features tinted red and her upper lip pulled back in a sneer.

“That’s not why,” she spat angrily. “He said, ‘rut with that knife-ear.’ I’m sorry I caused a stir, but I am _not_ sorry for what I did. After I asked him to repeat himself, he called her a ‘beast whore’, that’s when I put my dagger to his ear and made him apologize to her.” She scoffed, waving a hand in the air as if chasing off a bothersome fly. “He’s lucky he’s alive after that, Leliana.”

The spymaster’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “He failed to mention that bit.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I thought he might. Don’t worry, as long as he stays the fuck away from me and my imp, and I don’t hear him call another elf dumbass names, I won’t kill him.”

Leliana gave a weary sigh and touched her forehead beneath her hood. “Josephine and I have tried very hard to keep the racial slurs at a minimum. As you can imagine, I’m rather sensitive about that phrase, as well.”

“Why?” Sera nearly jumped out of her skin when Leliana’s eyes turned to her, and she realized it was she who had asked the question without thinking. Leliana actually scared the shite out of her. The woman was Knifey Shivdark in the flesh, and Sera always gave the woman a wide berth when they were in Haven because of the fact.

“Because my wife is an elf,” she answered simply, and not unkindly. “She never cared what others called her, but it has always been a thorn in my side to hear others berate her for the shape of her ears.”

Sera hid her surprise at hearing that Leliana was married, and to an elf, for that matter. She’d heard the woman say once that she was shagging the Hero of Ferelden a long time ago, but surely that couldn’t be the same elf? Could it? Back when Sera was a kid, she knew of Kallian Tabris; Sera even remembered seeing her drunk with her cousin Shianni, of course it _had_ to be by that blighted tree in the middle of the alienage.

But… That laid back, carefree elf couldn’t possibly be married to the secret-holding Left Hand… could she?

“Speaking of Grey Wardens,” Leliana began, “I talked to that mercenary from the Chargers. Varric brought him to meet with me after you were dragged out of the tavern.” Sera purposely avoided the gaze she could feel on her again, and put an –unnecessary– additional log into the fireplace instead. “I’ve heard of them, and never anything negative. If they’re on the Storm Coast, that’s advantageous to us. My investigation of the Wardens has led me to that very place; Scout Harding has sent me reports of Warden activity, and I would like it to be investigated further.”

 _She_ is _married to Tabris! Andraste’s flaming ladybits!_

“We’ll definitely look into it while we’re there,” Evelyn said agreeably, nodding her head. “We’ll set out as soon as we can in the morning.”

Leliana’s eyes glittered with mischief. “So I trust that you’ll actually get some sleep now?”

Sera coughed when a lump shot to her throat, but Evelyn laughed it off. “Yeah, I think that bastard killed the mood tonight. I’ll see you shortly after dawn.”

_Killed the mood? Pfft, I was gonna shag your friggin’ tits off after she left._

But after Leliana had bid them a good night and closed the door behind her, and they were back in bed, Evelyn just held her. Oddly enough, Sera was fine with it. There was just one thing she needed to know.

“Shiny?” Sera whispered, biting her lip.

“Imp?” Evelyn whispered back, stroking the side of her face.

“Were you really gonna cut off his ear?”

“Do you really have to ask me that?”

Sera grinned, tightening her arm around Evelyn’s waist. “Guess not. You would’ve done it.”

Evelyn sighed heavily, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’d have done more than that, honestly. No one will ever hurt you again, I swear it."

* * *

 

**The Deep Roads, somewhere between Ortan Thaig and Orzammar**

 

“And to that degree he stood and did decreeeeee– that all was lost so unbearably!” Kallian spun in a circle in the halls of the palace in Orzammar as she belted out the song, having felt the cups go to her head before she and Leliana had stolen away from the celebrations being had in the dining room. “Then the soldiers were mad, the wives were sad, but there was no glory to be had–!” she sang loudly as she spun her way to their quarters.

“–for Jadyn had stolen the love of the lad!” She and Leliana finished the song together, Kallian snickered loudly as she nudged the bard’s side with her elbow.

“Dwarves sure know how to throw a party,” Kallian sighed happily, making Leliana giggle.

“They are certainly festive,” she agreed; Kallian knew the bard was thinking of Orlais and their infamous grand balls.

“Not enough masks and ill disguised politics for you, my love?” The elf teased her silly shemlen lover, earning herself a smirk and a light slap on the upper arm.

“The Game is an art, you know,” Leliana said with a mysterious tone. “And no one plays higher stakes than Orlais.”

“Bloody well good, I love betting my life away on the actions of people I can’t control,” Kallian drawled sarcastically, and the bard laughed.

“Oh, but who said you can’t control the actions of others, hmm? I did not.” Leliana gave a smile to the abashed look Kallian gave her, and reached for the smaller woman’s hand as they drew near to their assigned quarters.

“Well, throw me a bone here, so I can control the eyes I saw glued to your arse all night in the dinner hall,” Kallian retorted; she reached between them with her free hand, and swatted at the subject of so much attention. “I’d rather all of Bhelen’s thugs keep their fuckin’ eyes where the Maker put ‘em to begin with.”

“Oho, says the duelist that had half the Warrior Caste salivating at the mouth when you entered —and won— the celebration tourney earlier today.” Leliana shot back with a smug grin, squeezing the fingers entwined with her own. “Makes me wonder who you were showing off for,” she went on with a dramatic sigh, covering her heart with her free hand.

“That cutie patootie from the Shaperate, of course!” Kallian quipped smoothly, earning a slap to the back of the head, both women laughing. Kallian only showed off for one person, and was walking with her now. But to be honest, after those weeks in the Deep Roads, it just felt good to be back in civilization and in the light of a lamp. She’d never been afraid of the dark before, but she and Leliana had left the candles lit the two previous nights here in the palace, not needing to discuss why.

Kallian opened the door to the room, allowing Leliana to enter first, then glanced around the empty hallway to make sure they weren’t being followed. The moment the door was shut and the lock was slid into place, Kallian found herself spun around and her back pressed hard against the door while a mouth covered over hers. Leliana tasted of dwarven mead and something else, something sweet that Kallian could never figure out despite the many kisses they’d shared. The frenzy of the kiss slowly tapered off into a lazy pace, Kallian pushed off the door and –without pulling away– had walked Leliana backwards towards the bed. She fumbled for the strap buckles of her plate mail to loosen them, her cuirass hung limply over her small frame and she reached to untie the thong of her leather breeches. She’d been in armor since she’d awoken in this very chamber that morning, and she was sick of the weight of it and her inability to feel the woman in her arms against her flesh.

Pulling away just before Leliana’s knees hit the bed, Kallian pulled the chest piece over her head and let it clatter to the floor where she stood, looking at Leliana with an amused expression in her electric blue eyes. “Was that jealousy, Leliana? Over someone that isn’t Morrigan?” she teased her, watching as her lover also began to loosen and lose pieces of her armor.

“No, just reminding you that you’re spoken for, no matter how cute the dwarves are,” Leliana said cheerfully, ignoring the jab about Morrigan altogether.

“How could I forget when I come home to such… utter fuckin’ perfection,” Kallian breathed, eyes devouring everything Leliana put on display for her as the armor fell away to reveal the skin beneath. “Maker, you’re beautiful.”

“Hush,” Leliana whispered with a shake of her head once she’d shed everything she’d worn. She stepped forward with her hands outstretched, reaching for the tail of the tunic that Kallian wore beneath her armor and pulling it over her head, the last thing the elf wore. “You have no right to call _me_ beautiful when I’m standing beside _you_.” Her eyes, a lighter blue than Kallian’s own, scanned over the tanned landscape of Kallian’s sinewy torso, focusing on her navel. “Especially with that adorable bellybutton.”

Kallian scoffed in disagreement, but the tint of red to her cheeks told Leliana that the compliment hit home. Leliana backed up to the bed and sat herself on the edge, pulling the elf forward so that she was standing between her knees before her. She looked up at the Warden with a grin before she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the _adorable_  navel, causing a jerk behind it that ran directly down to the apex of her thighs. Her breath hitched with the sensation, and Leliana’s eyes opened to see Kallian staring down at her in near amazement. A tongue flickered out of the bard’s mouth, tracing around the edge of the impression, then sucked the flesh around it into her mouth, drawing a low moan out of Kallian. Her fingers came up and tangled in red hair as Leliana continued to kiss her stomach, the muscles trembling and rolling with every caress of the more experienced woman’s mouth, that slight pounding feeling in her veins beginning to center in her groin.

“Maker, your mouth,” Kallian hissed, flinching when sharp canines nipped at the bottom of her ribcage and hands started to slide up her thighs. She pushed Leliana away gently, urging her down on her back as Kallian straddled her lap, bending down to reciprocate those kisses, running her tongue up the soft flesh of Leliana’s belly. “I’m not the only one with a rather erotic belly,” Kallian said playfully, dancing her fingers up Leliana’s sides, bringing them around to rub down her entire midriff. The muscles in the bard's stomach reacted just as her own, and Kallian found herself mesmerized by the patterns of the waves, tickling the flesh just to watch it move under her command.

The contrast of her darker complexion on Leliana’s pale skin was another aphrodisiac for her, marking her days working in the alienage in the sun, making runs through the city and back again day and night; and Leliana’s movement by night, like a lark in the darkness. It was like finding the answer in her sun kissed skin in the moon licked porcelain of Leliana's flesh.

“So beautiful,” she murmured, her eyes sliding up to Leliana’s face.

“Keep touching me,” Leliana whispered, slowly rolling her hips up into Kallian to set a pace for the elf; Kallian shuddered from the combination of the words and the feel of the thrust between her own legs, her own hips rolling back without her telling them to. She brought her hands back to Leliana’s stomach, rubbing the flat of her palms up it, loving the little whimper she made in response. The bard's hips were still moving beneath Kallian, who rode the movement without complaint; she noticed how Leliana’s eyes were stuck to the way her belly rolled when her hips bucked against hers.

“You really like my stomach?” The question brought Leliana’s eyes up to meet Kallian’s, the older woman blushing slightly as she nodded.

“It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Leliana admitted, and bit her lip again, reaching down and running her fingers down the length of Kallian’s middle as the elf slowly rocked against her lap. Goosebumps exploded all over the elf’s body, a flutter of pleasure rolling through her, making her breath hitch again. Leliana looked back up Kallian with a sheepish expression as she murmured, “I know it’s.. strange. But I really like looking at you while you do this, watching you move like that.”

“You sound like you have a cock, love,” Kallian laughed, leaning forward on her elbows to place her mouth on Leliana’s lower belly.

Leliana bucked upwards hard when Kallian nipped her, a hiss releasing from pressed lips. “Sometimes I wish I had,” she panted, reaching down and holding Kallian’s mouth still over one particular spot near her hip bone.

Kallian looked up at her without moving her mouth away, a mischievous glint in her smile. “Let’s get one, like Isabela had,” she said against Leliana’s skin, kissing her there as punctuation.

Leliana grinned back in much the same way. “Oh?” she breathed, tugging at Kallian’s mane of dark brown hair to pull her face up to hers. “I did so enjoy having you that deep inside of me, _ma cherie._ ” The statement was whispered directly into her sensitive ear, a nip on the long edge sending shivers through her again.

“Keep talking like that and I’m going to conveniently forget what foreplay is,” Kallian warned, leaning her hips up enough to fit a hand beneath herself, touching Leliana’s sex teasingly.

The bard chuckled huskily, then brushed her mouth against Kallian’s ear again when the elf kissed down her neck; Leliana let loose a string of flowing Orlesian– knowing that the warden didn’t catch a single intelligible syllable in the midst– but nevertheless goaded a reaction to it. Kallian squeezed her thighs around the bard's, grinding down hard. Maybe the elf didn’t understand the words, but the tone was unmistakable; and in her distraction she didn’t realize Leliana was flipping their position until it was done and Kallian was looking up at her instead of down.

Leliana reached beneath the warden to lift and scoot her further up the large bed, then crawled up the feathered mattress to drape herself over the smaller girl. She nestled a thigh between Kallian’s legs while pulling one of the elf's between hers, and lips met hers again as Leliana started to move against the warden; the firm surface of the thigh nudged into her just right, making her back arch and her hands clutch at Leliana’s shoulders as they moved.

But then Leliana did something that threw her completely off... Her bard started to lick her face. “What are you doing?” Kallian laughed, jerking her face away. “That’s weird, even for you.”

But Leliana didn’t answer, just kept licking at her face, bumping her jaw with her nose.

“Leliana!” Kallian couldn’t take this seriously at all.

**“BARK!”**

………

The sound of a deep bark came out of the red head, and Kallian gradually came to realize she was dreaming… The next lick came from reality, Little’s tongue as soggy and long as it had always been.

“Tabris, you’ve got to quit all that moanin’ and groanin’ and wake up. ‘Spawn are coming,” came a gruff voice from her left, and she opened her eyes and sat up quickly, wide awake at the word “spawn”.

Kallian shoved her mabari off of her chest, and the dog trotted to the foot of her bedroll next to Oghren, who was looking at Kallian with am amused grin. “She was tryin’ to warn ye,” he said fondly, giving the hound a pat on her massive head. “But ye were so deep in lala land with that bard o’ yers that ye started tellin’ her she was weird.”

Kallian ignored her dwarven friend’s observation, pulling herself up to her feet and drawing her twin short swords. “How long?” she asked him, and he gave a noncommittal grunt.

“Mebbe two minutes. Still not used to ye not bein’ able to hear ‘em yerself.”

“Yeah, well, get used to it, old man,” Kallian sighed, eyes scanning the blackness ahead of them. “Not planning to catch the taint again, now that it’s gone.” She gave him a devilish grin. “My dreams are much better these days.”

“Wouldn’t know anything ‘bout dreamin’, but I do know these sons o’ bitches are coming up now. Ye ready, Tabris? Ye can tell me all about that dream o’ yers when they’re dead.”

“Just because I’m not a Warden anymore doesn’t mean I forgot how to kill these fuckers,” she growled, eyes narrowing at him. “And apparently you do know how to dream, because if you think I’m giving you details, you must be having one for yourself for once, dwarf.”

“Don’ talk ‘bout it, girl. Jus’ do it,” he answered gleefully as a genlock appeared out of the tunnel they needed to travel through when this fight was finished. He raised his ax and brought it down hard on the thing’s head, cleaving it cleanly in two. “Tha’s one fer me.”

A ferocious snarl ripped out of her dog as Little rushed forward into the small cluster of darkspawn that followed the genlock, a howl of victory ripping free as she downed two at once, ripping their throats out. Kallian blocked the sword of another genlock as it hurled itself at her with its teeth bared, then used the momentum from the impact to push her right hand sword into its torso, and whipped her left arm around to take its head off its neck.

They were lucky, only a dozen or so in this group, and none an emissary. They were disposed of easily enough, and Kallian had only gotten a small nick from a blade on her neck. She carefully took off her gloves while Oghren looted the bodies for whatever these creatures carried, lying them to the side so she could check her wound with hands clean of darkspawn blood. If the tiniest amount touched broken flesh, she was done for and she was well aware of it.

That was the worst part about being free of the taint: that she could be infected again, and no Joining was going to save her. She was lucky in the regard that they were on the final leg of this years long expedition, and were expecting to see the lights of Orzammar any day now...

 _If_ the maps were right.

They’d been through what was left of Ortan Thaig, a place that held bitter memories for both Oghren and herself; now they came back up a side road to avoid the tunnel collapse that they–along with Alistair, Leliana, Shale, Sten, Zevran, Morrigan, and Wynne–had caused eleven years before. If Kallian’s memory served her right, they would be coming into Legion territory within the next few hours. It would be all she could do to not kiss those bearded bastards when she caught sight of their camp on the Orzammar border in the Deep Roads.

She was sick of darkspawn, sick of the blue light cast by the natural lyrium veins, sick of the heat from rivers of magma, sick of the blackness that pressed around her when they hid from hordes that they had no chance of surviving. She was sick of feeling a fear of being tainted again, that all of the pain of the past four and a half years would be for nothing. She was scared she’d never see Leliana again.

Little came up beside her, and Kallian gave her a nod of approval, slipping back into her gloves to give her a pat on her graying muzzle. Kallian tried not to think about it, but it was obvious that her best friend was getting older, though she was still spry for a mabari that was thirteen years old or better. She wanted to have Little out of the Deep Roads before the unthinkable happened, and wanted to be able to give the dog a few years of well-deserved rest before she passed on in her age. If things kept up the way they were, then she would have that chance soon enough.

“Let’s get movin’ before we don’t,” Oghren said, lifting his leg and giving a loud fart. Kallian was used to this from him, but it made her smile every time he did it just because she could still hear Leliana and Morrigan both gag in the back of her mind. “I’m ready fer a real drink and a whore, meself. This mushroom piss I’ve been drinkin’ is tearin’ me up.”

_The good ol’ days._

“After you, Warden Commander,” Kallian said with a graceful bow to the half-drunk dwarf, who snorted comically at the use of his official title.

“Ye might not wanna be downwind at the mo,” he said, lifting his gear pack onto his back over his ax. “I got another bun cookin’ in the oven. Ruddy mushrooms.”

Kallian didn’t have to be told twice. “Come on, girl,” she said to Little, who took point right away, nose to the ground and ears up. “Orzammar, remember? Bhelen, the dwarf you puked on?” The answering huff from the mabari made her giggle. “Aw, come on, I thought it was funny. Dogs aren’t meant to taste dwarven ale. It isn’t like the weak shemlen piss we share.”

Little stopped long enough to look back with a withering stare at her master before cantering on, and Kallian felt her spirits rise with every step the three companions took.

_Leliana, I’m on my way home._

But then Oghren stopped and grasped his head, making a loud grunt.

“You all right back there?” She squinted back at his silhouette in the dim light of the lyrium veins, seeing him slightly bow over before straightening up again.

He shrugged, shaking his head slowly. “I… have a headache. It’ll pass.”

Kallian stared at him for a moment, sensing that there was something he wasn’t telling her. “Oghren….”

“I said it’s fine, didn’t I? Keep walkin’, I gotta get out of these Roads. Startin’ to mess with my head.”

Kallian wanted to press him about what he meant, but he was suddenly in one of his ill moods, and she didn’t want to start an argument with the berserker. She merely looked at him without speaking until he made an impatient gesture that caused her to sigh and move on. But she kept an eye on him after that.

Something wasn’t right.

* * *

 

**Storm Coast**

 

Scout Lace Harding was the first familiar sight Evelyn’s eyes fell upon when they came up on a camp with Inquisition banners raised. The freckled dwarf almost resembled a drowned rat in the steady downpour of rain, but the look of relief on her face contradicted the misery she must have felt. Her green eyes were bright as she smiled at the approaching party, giving a wave of greeting.

“Welcome to the Storm Coast, for what it’s worth.” She spoke cheerfully to Evelyn, who let Sera slide off the horse and then followed her down. “But hey–no undead this time!”

“Lovely weather we’re having, ain’t it? If you ask me, the no undead part is just as good as a ray of sunshine.” Evelyn joked sarcastically as her eyes scanned past Harding and over the edge of the cliff overhang the camp was settled on; there was a roar of a high dragon that shook the very air, and she felt a thrill of fear run through her. It must have been clear from her expression.

Harding looked over her shoulder just in time to see the massive reptilian beast fly close enough to see it’s silhouette in the clouds. “Ah, don’t worry about her. She hasn’t bothered us a bit.”

“Don’t worry about the dragon, she says,” Evelyn muttered, shaking her head. She’d never faced one, and the only one she’d seen up close had chased them for a mile in the Hinterlands before turning wing back to its nest. She could still smell the smoke when she thought about it.

“That soldier that came ahead of you,” Harding said, catching her attention again, “went down that path right there.” She pointed towards a well beaten walking path between the rocks, too narrow to take their horses through. “He said that his company would be on the beach, waiting to attack that Venatori pocket, and you’d do well to hurry once you arrived… Handsome, isn’t he?” She blushed when she voiced this observation of Krem.

“Bit pushy, if you ask me,” Sera mumbled sullenly; she brushed her wet hair back from her forehead, and peered down the path indicated. Evelyn knew the elf hadn’t forgotten that Krem had given her the eyeball when they met.

“If you want, I can ask him if he’s into cute dwarves, Lace.” Evelyn chuckled as she shot the blushing girl a wink and making Sera giggle mischievously. Harding paled, but before she could deter the two rogues, the Seeker spoke over them.

“At least he told us where he was going so we aren’t walking up and down the beach all day,” Cassandra groused from behind them, allowing a soldier to lead her horse to the tie post. “This rain is deplorable.”

“I have to head back to Haven,” Harding said with a weary sigh, choosing not to respond to the Herald's tease. “I’ve got another assignment to start, tradin' all of this rain for a bunch of snow, instead. Best of luck to you, finding those Wardens with these bandits in the area. We sent a group out to speak with their leader; never heard anything back, though.”

“I’ll look into it, Lace. Thank you. Safe travels back.” Evelyn gave her a salute that the dwarf returned, then Harding went off to find her pony and mount up.

Evelyn turned to face the companions that had elected to travel with her: Cassandra, Blackwall, Sera, and Solas. Varric had remained in Haven because of his own business, and Vivienne would have come along had Evelyn requested it of her. But Evelyn had still barely even spoken to the mage, still not finding her political bullshit nor her arrogant attitude palatable.

“I suppose we’re here to merely observe. Hang back a bit, unless it looks like they need the back up. I don’t want to insult the man before I even meet him,” Evelyn said decidedly, and she received no complaint from her party. “Let’s go meet the new guys.”

By the time they’d reached the beach where Krem had instructed them to go, they need not have worried at all about being back up. The pebbles were covered in dark red blood that was gently being washed away with every lap of the sea against them, and strewn with the bodies that were the hosts. A group of around ten men were already scuttling from body to body, pulling short dirks across each throat to insure they were indeed dead when they’d fallen.

Towering over them all was a behemoth of a man, with a chest and shoulders so broad that Evelyn briefly wondered if he could even fit through most doorways. That said nothing of his impressive height or the set of horns on his head, long and horizontal from their base, with slightly upturned tips that indeed gave him the appearance of a steer. His ax strapped across his massive back was taller and probably heavier than Evelyn herself. There was no mistaking the identity of the qunari. This was who she’d come to meet.

“Krem!” he was bellowing as Evelyn made her way through the dead towards him. “We lose anyone?”

“Nah, Chief,” Krem called back from fifty feet down the beach, his tenor carrying over the crashing of the waves against the shore. “Five or six wounded, none dead!”

“That’s what I like to hear!” Iron Bull called back jovially. “As soon as you’re done cutting throats, open up those casks. You’ve all earned it!”

He turned around just as the Inquisition agents drew even with him, and Evelyn took in his face. He was scarred, a sign of a true warrior, an eye patch wrapped around his head and over his left eye. He had a thin layer of stubble that covered his long jaw, that was thicker on his pointed chin, and his white teeth bared at the Herald in a smile.

“Iron Bull, I presume?” Evelyn said casually, holding out a hand in greeting. She was unprepared when his hand engulfed hers, expecting it to be crushed in his grip, but instead he gently shook her hand. She had to nearly hold her head all the way back just to look him in the eyes– or eye?

“The horns usually give it away,” he said, nodding his head. “So, you’re her, huh? Herald of Andraste.”

“The hand usually gives it away,” she replied cheekily, and he chuckled at the retort. It was a pleasant rumble in his chest that reminded her a bit of Varric. “My name is Evelyn Trevelyan,“ she introduced herself properly. She made a gesture behind her at her compatriots. “Lady Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast, Ser Warden Blackwall, my Sera, and Solas, accordingly.”

He gave them all a nod and then gestured to a wet rock near the ship the Tevinters had sailed in on. “Come on, have a seat… drinks are coming.”

“Bloody well and good,” Sera sighed in a relieved tone, ignoring the grunt of disapproval from Cassandra and the scoff of disgust from Solas.

“I assume you remember my lieutenant, Cremisius Aclassi?” Iron Bull said as Krem walked up.

“Throat cutters are done,” he announced, then gave a nod to Evelyn with a slight blush on his smooth cheeks. “Herald, glad you made it all right.”

“Done already? That’s fast. Have them check again, I don’t want any of these Tevinter bastards getting away–no offense, Krem,” Bull chuckled, and Krem didn’t bat an eye.

“At least a Tevinter knows who his mother was,” he shot back as he walked away and left them to business. “Puts him one up on you qunari, right?”

Evelyn eyed Bull, waiting for a burst of temper that didn’t come. She’d seen qunari before, and knew that they took their precious Qun seriously. This man didn’t come across at all like the others she’d seen. There was a word for those that had abandoned the Qun, but she couldn’t remember it off the top of her head. Surely Iron Bull was one of those? He just seemed too…. Normal.

“So,” Bull said, and Evelyn looked away from the retreating Krem and back at the massive man in front of her. “You’ve seen what we can do.”

Evelyn’s eyes looked past him as they took a seat on the rock alongside him, scanning the corpses idly, then looked back up at him. “I’m certainly impressed.”

“We’re expensive,” he acknowledged right away. “But we’re worth it.”

“How expensive, exactly?” Evelyn’s brow furrowed, silently wondering if the Inquisition coffers allowed for such a buy, but the qunari gave a wave of his hand.

“Your ambassador, what’s her name–Josephine? She can worry about the payment. You’re not just getting the boys-- you’re getting me. A front line man, a body guard. Whatever you need me for–demons, dragons. The bigger, the better. I just know you’re doing good work, and I’d like to be a part of that.” He pointed a finger at the Breach, shining as brightly as ever against the pregnant clouds above them. “That’s a problem for everyone. And I’ve been assigned to find out what can be done to stop it.”

Evelyn gave a glance at Cassandra, who made a noise of uncertainty in her throat. “Assigned?” the Seeker repeated, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Iron Bull rubbed a hand over his face. “This might piss you off, but…. Have you ever heard of the Ben-Hassrath?”

Another look exchanged between the entire group, and Solas cleared his throat. “The Qun’s equivalent of a city guard, or policing force, yes?”

Iron Bull turned his gaze to the elf, inclining his head a bit. “I would lean more towards ‘spies’, but yeah. That’s them… well, _us_.”

“You’re a spy... and you told us, just like that?” Sera said suspiciously, taking a step backwards, eyes slits. “That’s you slippin’ on your job, innit?”

Bull gave her a sly grin. “Not exactly,” he replied in a light tone. “Trying to hide something like that from something called ‘ the Inquisition’? I’d have been tipped, eventually. Better it come from me than someone else.” He paused and then sighed heavily. “Even so, if the Qun wasn’t interested in your Inquisition and this hole in the sky, I’d personally be interested. So it just works. Magic out of control like that shit?” He gestured at the sky again. “The Ben-Hassrath ordered me to get in with the Inquisition, get close to your top brass, and send them reports on what’s happening. But on that same note, I get reports from Ben-Hassrath agents all over Orlais that I’d be willing to share with your people.”

Evelyn shifted uncomfortably, not believing she was even entertaining the thought of hiring an admitted qunari spy. “What would you send back in these reports, exactly?”

“Just enough to keep them satisfied. Updates on the situation, nothing that would compromise your organization. The qunari are just wondering if they should launch a full scale invasion to set things right, and if I can send them enough positive reports to keep that from happening, everyone wins.”

“What would you tell us?” Cassandra asked from Evelyn’s right, obviously not completely sold on this venture. It was a risk, and Cassandra didn’t like taking steps forward into an unknown like this man could be, Evelyn knew that.

“Enemy movements, intriguing gossip, it’s a little bit of everything. If your spymaster is worth a fuck, she’ll put them to good use.”

“‘She’?” Cassandra asked incredulously, her hand twitching towards her sword, but Iron Bull’s genial laugh stayed her pull.

“I might have done a little research,” he admitted, holding up his hands. Then he deliberately closed his one eye at the Seeker in what was unmistakably his version of a wink. “Plus, I’ve always had a thing for red heads.”

 _Wrong red head to pick, honestly._ Evelyn shook her head at him, but she couldn’t fight off the smile tugging at her lips. She liked this guy already, qunari spy or not. His entire demeanor was laid back, and he was honest. If she needed a body guard, she wouldn’t say no to the combination of this massive bulk plus Cassandra’s sword skills.

“All right,” Evelyn said finally after a brief moment of thought. “You’re hired. Now let’s get drunk, because what else is there do in this pissing rain?”

A slap on her back from the qunari almost made her fall face first into the surf, but Sera shot an arm out and caught her before she could. “Hell yeah! Krem! You heard the woman! The Chargers were just hired, and the Boss wants a drink!”

“Evelyn, are you forgetting the other reason why we’re here?” Cassandra asked stiffly, and Evelyn waved a hand.

“I can scout for Wardens drunk, and deal with those bandits, too. Let me take it for the road, Cass. I’ll be a good Herald, I swear.”

The Seeker groaned loudly and stomped off, making Sera snicker as Solas strode after her. “Those two need to pull the sticks out of their bums. I believe Cass has it in her, but there’s no hope for Baldy.”

“That Seeker… she fight as well as she postures?” Iron Bull asked, taking a tankard when Krem brought an arm full over.

“Better,” Blackwall grunted, taking one as well. “One of the best swordsmen I’ve ever sparred with. I can’t get the best of her, and believe me, I’ve tried.”

“Responsible to a fault, too,” Evelyn sighed, feeling guilty that she was drinking a tank while men were missing. “I really should take this for the road. There’s an Inquisition camp settled up on the cliff top. You and your men can camp there, if you’d like.”

Iron Bull shook his head. “The boys can go on up, but I’ll follow you. I’m curious to see how _you_ handle things.”

Evelyn gave a single nod, getting to her feet and tilting back the cup, chugging the entire thing down in one breath, then releasing a belch that made Sera laugh. “That’s fair,” she conceded. “We should catch up with them.”

“Lead the way, Boss,” Iron Bull said, raising his tankard in a toast. “On to new horizons, or whatever it is you _bas_ say.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

Iron Bull fit the Inner Circle like a custom made glove. He was smart, observant, and didn't take shit from anyone. Seggrit was the first to find that out when he got a tone with the qunari, while Bull was buying a whet stone to sharpen his ax the first day back in Haven. The smart mouthed merchant ended up tossed all the way down the steps to the main gate. The minstrel in Flissa's tavern wrote a song on the spot about the "Man in Horns".

He could fight. Evelyn watched him spar with his Chargers, with Blackwall, and with Cassandra. He bested them all but Cass; her smaller frame made her too quick for him to lock his attacks on her, and she always managed to evade his wide swings by a hair's breadth.

He could drink. Hours saw him in the tavern and out, tankard in hand as he meandered around the village, making connections with the workers and the others in the Inner Circle. He made Leliana laugh like Evelyn had never heard with his bold flirtations to the spymaster, but she gave him no length of hope that she would actually acquiesce to his advances. Evelyn thought it odd that Leliana did not show him her ring that bound her to Tabris, but she didn't question it, either.

He could bet. Cards with him was a challenge that none but Varric and Josephine cared to acknowledge. After having a humiliating walk back to her cabin in her smalls one night–much to Sera's cackling glee–Evelyn did not seek him out for a game. She did receive a small form of retribution in the form of Josephine cleaning out his coin bag the next night, earning herself the title of "Ruffles No Mercy" from a very drunk Varric.

He could tell stories. The man had seemingly seen and done it all. Evelyn and Sera spent two nights in a row with him at his tent in front of a fire with Krem, listening to the two men tell battle tales and swap anecdotes for hours. Apparently in Seheron there were female qunari called _tamassrans,_ that men would go to see when they needed their "cork popped". Evelyn was fascinated that it was not something that was frowned upon, as her excursions to brothels were. But the infrastructure of the Qun itself was too rigid and formal for her personal taste, despite the _tamassran_ thing.

In just two short weeks, Iron Bull had carved himself a place in the heart of the Inquisition, and into Evelyn's small circle of agents that she considered friends. With his help, they'd made short work of the tasks along the Storm Coast and made it back home within the first week; in the second week, he was family.

No word from Alexius had arrived once the party had returned with their disappointing news that they had missed the Wardens on the coast, finding only remnants of somewhat recent campsites and litter left behind. Leliana had been crestfallen ever since, but she hid it so well that only Evelyn and Josephine noticed, the two women sharing a sympathetic glance whenever Leliana excused herself from the council meetings after the initial report.

"She's chasing ghosts, Herald," Josephine had said to Evelyn, as the two exited the room behind Cullen and Cassandra a few days after their arrival back to Haven. "It breaks my heart to see her breaking her own repeatedly."

"Do you think Tabris is gone? Like for good?" Evelyn asked her sadly, feeling a heaviness in her own breast for their friend.

Josephine led Evelyn into her office, quietly closing the door behind her with a deep sigh. "I can't answer that honestly. I met the Warden once, at the same party where I became reacquainted with Leliana. She struck me as a devoted lover: how she danced with Leliana and doted upon her every need that night was utterly charming. One could not foresee her disappearing in the dead of night a mere few weeks later, never to be seen again."

"Leliana believes she had a mission, and left her sleeping rather than jeopardize her feelings," Evelyn murmured, taking a seat in front of the ambassador's wide desk.

Josephine seated herself in her chair, rustling through a stack of papers. "Indeed, it's just as she has told me. But I cannot help but to wonder if a part of her is lying to herself, to save herself from the pain of the truth." The ambassador found the paper she was searching for and slid it across her desk top to Evelyn, tapping it with an elegant finger. "While you're here, you should read this."

Evelyn's brow furrowed as she picked the letter up and gave it a precursory glance, balking when she recognized the handwriting, scowling when she saw the signature.

_Lady Ambassador Josephine Montilyet,_

_I write to you on behalf of the Trevelyan clan in Ostwick. You have in your organization a person that claims the surname of my family. She has declared herself the "Herald of Andraste", and has assumed a role of leadership in your "Inquisition"._

_I implore you to denounce these claims the girl makes. Her name is Evelyn Trevelyan, yes, but that is as far as any truth that demon speaks. She was born on a cursed night, and has carried with her the very essence of evil henceforth. My own devotion to the Chant of Light and the Maker's hard love stayed my hand in giving the babe away, and obligated me to raise the child. She may be of my loins, but there is nothing of my faith nor family in the woman that she became._

_She is a liar, a thief, a murderer, and is unnatural in ways I will not put to paper. Matters being what they are, she is also the twin to an abomination with which the Maker saw fit to punish me for reasons unknown to me to this day. It is important that you make note of the kinship between the two, as it is inevitable that they reunite now that the Circles that kept them apart have fallen. Should the one be with the other, there will be no end to the ruin it would bring upon your reputation. It is truth that these two women killed their own mother upon birth, their combined evil proving too much for my lady wife to bear in her goodness._

_In light of losing the one that claims to be the leader of the Inquisition forces, I do have a recommendation for a replacement. My son, Maxwell, is a formidable warrior and a capable leader, learned in things that the pretender in power has no knowledge of which to speak. It would be in everyone's best interests for you to declare that monster a heretic and have her burned for her deplorable lies and disgusting nature, and arrange to meet with my heir at your first opportunity._

_If these things do come to pass, I can assure you the financial funding to back any endeavors the organization undertakes. I have faith in the Inquisition to do what is right for Thedas, and in its hand in stopping the madness this world has tumbled through in the past few years. Ostwick would stand proudly as an ally to the victor._

_Bann Rogan Trevelyan_

Evelyn read and reread the letter several times, her hands shook in barely suppressed anger, her throat tightening with emotion that she had not felt in years. She closed her eyes, swallowing hard to rid the lump in her throat and taking a deep breath through her nose. She opened her eyes and leveled a look at Josephine, who stared back at her, the picture of poise. "When did this arrive?" she asked the ambassador, who gave an inclination of her head.

"This morning, Your Worship."

"And have you replied?"

"I have not. Leliana and I agreed that it would be best to show you the letter and ask for your input, as he is your father."

"He was never my father," Evelyn snapped, making Josephine start in her seat. Evelyn felt guilty immediately, softening her voice when she continued. "I'm sorry, Ambassador. He brings me into a rare state of 'I don't give a fuck'. But I didn't mean to have that tone with you." She paused, looking down at the letter she still held. "He's offering the Inquisition money to have me killed, and my brother to take charge." She scoffed and sarcastically murmured under her breath, "How generous of the bann."

"A request that will go on ignored, even if you bade me to write this man a valid reply. It sickens me to read the things he says of you. You're nothing like what he describes, Herald." There was a soft tenderness to her tone, one that somehow made Evelyn's cheeks burn with a blush, but she disagreed with the ambassador's assessment.

"I fear that I am. But I am not the woman he remembers, that much is true. It's taken nearly twenty-three summers to see the good in myself, but it is there."

"Yes," Josephine agreed quietly, slowly reaching a hand across the desk and taking the letter back from her. "What is not pure in deeds does not define the purity in the heart, my lady."

Evelyn met Josephine's dark grey eyes set in her Antivan features, seeing something in the other woman's gaze that she saw in the way Sera sometimes looked at her after they'd been physically intimate. Something that told her she was worth something, finally worth someone's affection and attention; Josephine was a person that didn't see her as an aberration of humanity, and though it was a comforting thought, it also conjured conflicting feelings. Seeing it in someone's eyes other than her imp's made Evelyn slightly uncomfortable, like she was cheating on the elf.

"You're doing incredible things," the ambassador went on graciously. "Things that the person described here would never do. But the question is… do I respond to this defamation?"

Evelyn swallowed again. "No," she decided, shaking her head. "No, let him stew in his own shit. I don't want him pulling Max into this. My brother is non-negotiable, as is my sister."

"You and your brother are on better terms, I take it?"

Evelyn nodded slowly, thinking on her older brother and his pristine honor and heart. "Maxwell was my father, really," she told Josephine honestly. "He is twelve years my senior, and was an adult before I was an adolescent. He raised me because my father refused to. He loved us, protected us, guided us. And when the templars took Ellen, he became my world."

"I see." Josephine sighed, looking down at the letter in her hands. "Should I write to your brother instead, Your Grace?"

"Evelyn," she grunted back, looking away from Josephine so that she couldn't see the emotion swirling in her eyes. "Please call me Evelyn, especially now."

"Of course, Evelyn." The name rolled off her tongue, and Evelyn shook her head at the warmth in which it was uttered. It was becoming clear that the ambassador held an inclination towards her, but she couldn't let the woman think her receptive to it. She was too late, Sera had all of her.

"And no," Evelyn said in answer to her previous inquiry. "At least, not yet. My father would throw a fit if his letter was ignored, and if my brother received any missive from us instead. When the Breach is closed, I shall write to Max, myself." _Provided I'm alive,_ she added silently.

Evelyn slapped her knees with both hands and rose, schooling her face into its usual neutrality before she left the room. "I think I'm going to go throw some knives." She rubbed her temples then sighed quietly. "Maybe it will help me feel better."

"I am sorry to have caused you distress, but as I said, we felt you should know."

Evelyn gave Josephine a nod. "I am grateful for it, truly. It's just… hard."

Josephine's eyes drifted downward into her lap, her teeth catching her bottom lip. "I cannot imagine. Again, my apologies. If you change your mind and wish me to cut this man down to his true size with kindness, please do not hesitate to find me because I would love nothing more."

"Ruffles No Mercy, right," Evelyn chuckled, giving the noblewoman a bow. "See you later, Ambassador."

"Now, now," Josephine chided with a tiny smile. "It is Josephine, or Josie. Good day, Evelyn."

* * *

There were several painted targets down by the frozen lake, set aside from the practice dummies that Cassandra tore to shreds when they were stationary in Haven. Sera had been using them for practice for the past few days, so the middle circles were nearly torn out of the straw from her dead shots. Evelyn didn't care about that; she just wanted to feel the sensation of her blades flying out of her hands, and imagine her father's face in place of the targets.

Evelyn avoided everyone on the walk down from the Chantry building, outright ignoring Varric as he called her name from where he usually hung out in front of the tent he slept in as she breezed past him. She didn't want company. She didn't feel like talking or listening to anyone talk. If she were absolutely honest with herself, she wanted to kill something. She wanted to see blood. The bann pulled her very worst out of herself, and it was something she'd dealt with since childhood.

She remembered how at first she and Ellen had to eat their dinner in the kitchen with the servants when the bann entertained guests. He would sorrowfully inform the guests that his daughters were ill and therefore could not attend the formal settings. It was Maxwell that finally put his foot down about it and demanded his father treat his sisters with a modicum of respect, and it was by sheer luck that the bann regarded his son's opinions as sovereigns flowing out of his mouth. She recalled hearing her father tell Maxwell that he loved him once, and being so consumed by jealousy of the words that she threw her entire wardrobe full of dresses into the fireplace of her room just to get back at him.

All that had done was earn her the whipping of a life time, one that she carried scars from to this day across the backs of her thighs and on her ass.

_One he smiled about. He enjoyed it._

Evelyn's fingers tightened around the small knife in her hand as she stared at her target, thinking on these past moments. Surely fantasizing about murdering her own father wasn't something that classified as "pure", but she couldn't help it. She knew she would never actually do it, not without a very good reason, but she couldn't sate the desire to see him in pain by her hand. Maker, how she _hated_ him. And for him to debase her to people that cared about her, to offer them compensation for her demise? She gritted her teeth and the first knife sung as it flew, embedding deep into the straw stack, the hilt barely visible.

"Oi, who pissed you off?" _Maker…_ Just the _sound_ of Sera's voice made Evelyn's shoulders lose some of the tension coiled in her muscles. The second knife followed the first, hitting directly to the left of it.

"Long story," she muttered, pulling the third knife from her belt.

"I have time, not like we have anything to do, for once." The elf moved behind her, watching the assassin throw twice more before giving a low whistle. "You gotta teach me that sometime, Shiny."

Evelyn pulled the final throwing knife from her belt and made a motion for Sera to come to her. She pulled the elf against her front, stealing a small kiss to the nape of her neck. "You favor your left hand, correct?"

"Yeah," Sera answered with a single nod.

Evelyn pressed the knife into the elf's left hand, closing her fingers around the turned Sera's thin wrist to face at a certain angle, allowing her fingers to caress the under side of it before pulling her hand up to the thief's elbow, adjusting it as well. "You'll want to throw from here," Evelyn said quietly in her ear, her chin resting on Sera's shoulder. "Avoid using your shoulder. The shoulder is only good for the force of the throw, not the angle with which it flies. There is a snap of the wrist that gives you the aim, but it should be that last action of your muscles." Evelyn stood back from the imp to give her space to rear her arm back. "Give a throw, and don't forget to snap your wrist last."

Sera's face scrunched with concentration, and Evelyn chuckled to herself, knowing that she wouldn't embed the knife while thinking too hard about what she was doing. She watched the knife leave the elf's hand, seeing it wobble in the air before hitting against the target flatly and falling to the ground.

"Piss," Sera cursed, and Evelyn shook her head.

"No one gets it the first time, imp. Let me get them and we'll continue until you get the hang of it."

"So, I'm not botherin' you, then? Varric said you ignored him when you left the meeting and came this way. Not like you to do that."

"This is a welcome distraction, trust me." Evelyn crossed to the target, pulling her four knives out if it and bending to pick up the one that Sera threw. She came back to where Sera stood, and sighed dejectedly. "My father wrote to Josephine. It… wasn't pleasant." A sore understatement, but the assassin wasn't entirely _enthusiastic_ about sharing the details.

 _You want her to open up to you. Try opening up to her first. She has a right to know what she could be in for._ Evelyn bit her lip at what her brain was telling her, knowing that it was truth. She just wished she had happier tales for the girl that had never known a family, for better or worse. _I'll never lie to her to make things pretty. If she wants to know, I should tell her._

"You never talk about him," Sera said as Evelyn reset the elf's arm with another knife in her hand. "So, what did he say? You don't have to tell me, if you don't wanna, though."

"I don't mind. If there's anyone here I would talk to about it, it's you… Here, you're turning your wrist too soon, and it's guiding the blade onto its side. Use your first finger to guide it straight, if you must." She repositioned Sera's wrist again and pulled her index finger flat against the blade. "Throw."

The blade went out, and Evelyn pursed her lips as it once again fell flat. "Still snapping your wrist before you're releasing the tension in your elbow, my imp. You're thinking too hard about what you're doing. Just let your reflexes do the work, don't fight against them."

Sera huffed an impatient breath, and Evelyn smiled at the sound. "All good for you to say. You make it look easy."

"Just as you make taking out demons from a hundred yards look like child's play. You'll get this. Just takes practice. I've been doing it since I was seven."

"Who taught you?"

"My brother, and his tutors. I used to sneak out to the training yard and watch Max spar with his teachers, and beg him to show me things. Since I was too small to actually fight, he taught me this first."

"I was drawin' on walls with sticks and mud when I was that young," Sera grumbled, taking another try. This one actually stuck into the target for a split second before it fell.

"That was very good for your third try," Evelyn said proudly, beaming at the little jump of excitement that the elf gave when the blade hit true. "And as for drawing with sticks and mud, that worked out well for you. I've seen your doodles on your Jenny reports. They're quite good. Especially the tits on that one broad."

Sera cackled evilly. "I dunno if they're that nice in person, but I can't draw ugly tits. It's just wrong."

Evelyn laughed with her, handing her another knife and letting Sera set her own arm as the assassin drifted in her thoughts. Her mind wandered back to the original question, for it had been the one she had honestly been surprised that Sera still wished to hear the unpleasant truth. "You really want to know what my father wrote?"

"Course," her lover replied, licking her lips as she stared at the target. "Pissed you off, need to know if I should find a Jenny in the Marches to piss _him_ off." As Sera aimed, Evelyn quickly rushed the words out, and hadn't been surprised that she still couldn't find herself giving a fuck about it all.

"He offered the Inquisition money and political support in trade for my life. He wants them to burn me."

The knife flew out of Sera's hand and struck the target hard, sticking into it off center to the left, but Sera didn't even notice. She whipped around to look at Evelyn with a mix of surprise and rage.

"He bloody _what?_ Who the frig does he think he is?"

"Bann Rogan Trevelyan, the most influential and devout man in all of the Free Marches… in his head, anyway," Evelyn drawled sarcastically. "It doesn't matter, imp. Josephine is ignoring the entire letter. It just bothers me that he said some of the things he said. Even when I'm away from his sight, he still manages to try and make the ones I'm around see that I'm a monster, too." Evelyn shrugged, looking off the other side of the lake. "I used to agree with him. I used to believe it. But now, after all of this, I'm not so sure he was ever right."

Sera took a step towards her, cocking her head to the side, her brow wrinkled. "You thought you were a monster? How?"

Evelyn gave a mirthless chuckle. "Tell a child something for so long, and they become it. You don't know what I was like before the Inquisition."

Silence, for a moment, before Sera broke it. Her tone didn't give much off, and she shrugged as she spoke with an air of familiarity. "So…You killed people for money."

"Yes." _If only that were the long and short of it, my imp. If only you knew that it wasn't always bad guys. If only I didn't carry their last breaths on my soul, the soul that has attached itself to you._

"More to you than that, Shiny. And it didn't happen just 'cause you're a big hat."

Evelyn gave her a wan smile, reaching up to cup the elf's jaw, her thumb brushing against her chin. There was a certain innocence to the thief that she found utterly charming and it made her chest feel tight. "I'm glad you see it that way, Sera. But the ugly part is that I enjoyed killing." A pause, and her voice drops lower as she somewhat reluctantly confesses the _whole_ truth. "…I still enjoy it."

"Then that just makes it mean more when you don't do it," Sera argued without pausing to think about what Evelyn admitted, stepping closer to her. The reaction gave Evelyn a sliver of hope that the elf wouldn't be sickened if she knew everything. "It means that you care more than you think you do. Because if you didn't, there would always be bloody bodies lying around and you'd just live for that. But you don't. You go out of your way to make sure people have food and blankets. You take back rings and give them to sad widows. You take out baddies without a second thought. You save people's lives. You make sure healers are bursting with elfroot to do the same." She took a deep breath and steadied herself, Evelyn could see her shaking.

"Imp…." The endearment was said softly, but Sera gave a vehement shake of her head, glaring at Evelyn.

"No! You don't get to stand here and tell me you're a monster when I _know_ you ain't!"

"I _know_ I'm not. That's what I'm saying. I just… didn't see it until this all came to pass. A monster couldn't care the way I do." Evelyn pulled the girl to her, taking both her hands in her own and gently squeezing, giving her a tender look. "A monster couldn't look at you and feel the things I feel when I'm with you."

Sera's mouth opened as if she were going to say something else, but then she closed it, breathing out slowly through her nose. Then she just leaned her head against Evelyn's chest. "Sappy tit," she whispered, and Evelyn wrapped her arms around the elf, holding her close.

"It's true, though," Evelyn admitted quietly, feeling blood rush to her face as she spoke. "If my father brings out the worst in me, you definitely bring out the best. So thank you."

"Dunno what you're thanking me for…" the archer mumbled, the words muffled by Evelyn's cleavage. "When I'm just being me."

Evelyn grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Exactly why I'm thanking you. Come on, let's get some food and a bottle."

"Now you're makin' sense!" A brighter face popped out of the valley between her breasts, beaming up at her. "I'll race you to Flissa's!"

"Wait a second, did you see that you hit the target and it stayed?"

Sera turned around and gave another victory jump, whooping loudly. "All I had to do was be pissed off!"

Evelyn couldn't help but to laugh.

* * *

Later that day, the winds began to howl and snow flurries turned into a solid white wall of the stuff. It was the first true snow storm Haven had seen that winter, and the village had locked itself down, everyone holing up in their respective housing. The community bunk houses were more full than usual, with some of the tent dwellers having to take refuge there from the damaging winds that cut through the thin canvases like serrated blades.

Evelyn and Sera had helped Iron Bull and Blackwall relocate the sensitive items in Leliana's tent, off to her shared room with Josephine and Cassandra inside the Chantry. They also moved dozens of tent dwellers into the old jail cells below the main building, creating small makeshift fire pits in old oil burners for them to keep warm overnight. Varric contributed by being the designated storyteller for the children, whom Josephine had settled into her own office. Vivienne had hid in her carriage at first, until the sheer force of the wind rocked it so hard that the ice mage had to swallow her pride and take a place in the Chantry, as well. That had given Evelyn and Sera something to chuckle about.

Dennet had stabled most of the horses and covered them in blankets, before Evelyn fought her way down to the barn to see if she could assist; she stayed until every horse was secured and the horse master himself had bunked down in a side room of the barn, with a few of his hired hands and a couple of Bull's Chargers, Krem included.

If hadn't been for the glow of the candles lit in Evelyn's own cabin, she would have never been able to find it once she was done helping with the horses. She couldn't recall a time she'd seen so much snow, and certainly not as severe to this degree; snow itself was severe regardless for her, as snow was a scarce thing from where she was up north.

Walking into her cabin–and being overwhelmed with how much warmer it was inside of it than out–she gave a heavy sigh of relief, before she even began shaking the layers of the stuff off of her coat and hair. She was completely drenched, but Sera was already very nearly dry, roaring flames danced in the fireplace and the elf sat incredibly close with hands out to warm. She'd come to the cabin when Evelyn went to check on the barn, so she'd been inside for almost an hour before the assassin could even _think_ about hunkering down for the night.

The first thing Evelyn did was peel herself out of her wet clothes, then dashed over to the bed and snatch the duvet off of it and wrapped it around herself; she joined Sera at the hearth, toes inching as close to the embers in the grate as she dared. Her lover gave her an amused look, Sera's own toes were just as close as they sat before the flames together.

"Horses all good, then?" she asked, and Evelyn nodded quickly, her teeth audibly chattering in her skull.

"F-finally," she stammered; her hands poked out of the cover and rubbed at her frigid ears, in hopes to create some friction and get blood flowing to them again. "I feel like my body is frozen from the inside out."

"Share that blanket, and I'll share some body heat." An easy bargain, and Evelyn automatically held the edge outwards so that Sera could slide inside of it with her. The elf slid between Evelyn's bare thighs and rested her back against the human's chest, pulling the blanket tightly around them both. "Andraste's blooming knickers, you're friggin' cold!"

"Told you so," Evelyn chuckled dryly, nuzzling her icy nose into Sera's very warm neck, making the girl squeak and flinch. "You, however, feel amazingly warm right now. My own little fire."

"Your tits are cuttin' into my back right now," Sera complained, shifting against her. "Your nipples are like friggin' _rocks_."

Evelyn snorted, rolling her eyes. "That's the first time I've ever heard you complain about my nipples being hard, imp. Are you running a fever?"

"Yeah, well, you feel like Vivi-bitch hit you with one of her ice spells or something. You're makin' me cold all over again when I'm supposed to be warmin' you up."

"Wow," Evelyn said in mock hurt. "I'm under a blanket with you, naked as the day I was born, and all you have to say to me is I'm making you cold? You're definitely coming down with a fever."

That remark earned her a sharp elbow to the ribs. "Shut it, you," Sera chuckled, rubbing her hands up and down Evelyn's forearms that were wrapped around her. "There's no way I'm gettin' naked with you until your body doesn't feel like a Vivi-bitch victim."

"But imp… that's the fastest way to warm me up. Don't you want me to keep my ears, nose, and toes?" She grinned at the scoff Sera gave her, pressing a kiss to the elf's neck.

"Blah blah blah," Sera chanted, making Evelyn giggle.

"I see how it is. When I start losing limbs, I'll blame you."

"Your fingers must've been first, 'cause you're losin' your touch, Shiny," Sera yawned pointedly, making Evelyn raise an eyebrow.

_Was that a challenge, my imp?_

She slipped her hand down between the thief's legs and cupped her sex through her leggings, applying just the slightest amount of pressure. Sera's hips jerked upwards against her palm, seeking more that Evelyn wasn't willing to give. "Nah, I don't think I am," she whispered smugly; she pressed another kiss to her imp's neck, suckling at the skin just enough to make the girl whimper. She rolled her fingertip across the sweet spot at the top for a few minutes, and Sera melted against her.

"Still think I've lost my touch?" she taunted her, loving the way her imp's breathing patterns changed when she was aroused. It made her become just as hot, to be honest, even as cold as her skin still was.

"You're cheating," Sera gasped, her back arching at a particularly accurate stroke of the same finger.

"Nuh huh," Evelyn disagreed with a shake of her head. "Just proving my point, Little Fire." She slowly slid her hand back up to Sera's abdomen, bringing her shirt tail up with it before the torturous hand sneaks beneath the waistband of her leggings. The archer hissed at the sensation of Evelyn's frozen fingers trailing down through her thatch of hair and continued the same motions they'd made over her tights.

 _Maker's breath, she's already soaked… "losing my touch", yeah, right,_ Evelyn thought to herself wryly as she nibbled her way down the elf's right ear. An arm came up and gripped the back of the assassin's bedraggled head, fingers tugged at her wet hair as Sera tilted her head to the side to give Evelyn more room to kiss down the expanse of her neck.

"Fuck…" Evelyn muttered as a shiver ran through her at how scorching Sera's sex was around her fingers when she pushed two of them inside. "You're burning up."

"You're just cold," came the moaned response. "But I like it, feels good."

"Take your pants off," Evelyn suggested, pulling back out to circle the little pebble at the top again. The pants were too tight for her do anything substantial inside of her, and Evelyn wanted substantial. She wanted it _really_ bad. "It'll feel even better."

The fingers in her hair disappeared as Sera used both hands to shimmy out of her leggings and smalls, and divested herself of her smock in the process. She flipped around and straddled Evelyn's lap, cradling her face to kiss her painstakingly slow. It wasn't long before that same hand found its way back to that sweltering place between Sera's thighs and slipped back inside to the knuckles.

Evelyn let the blanket fall from around them, bracing herself on the hand that wasn't occupied to use her hips in the motion they were creating. They moved slowly, not a single care in the world; no interruptions would come tonight, thanks to the howling winds outside the cabin. There was something different in the way they were coupling, like there was a patience to this time that neither woman had shown before. Every time before this one had almost been a contest of which one could make the other come first, and which one could make the other be the loudest. It was very nearly _always_ fast and hard.

But now, foreheads pressed together and green eyes locked on grey eyes, sharing the same breaths of air with their lips barely brushing, beckons a question to be asked…

_Is this… making love?_

The thought crossed Evelyn's mind, and her chest constricted with an alien emotion she'd felt with Sera before but couldn't identify, even now. Nothing like what was happening had ever occurred in her life, nothing like having this beautiful, fiery being in her lap, rocking her hips almost reverently against her fingers. No one had ever stared directly into her eyes like Sera was doing now, seeing nothing but her, completely in the moment. No one had ever whispered her name quite the way the thief was doing, so low that if Evelyn didn't feel the syllables forming against her lips, she wouldn't know it was being said. There was never any soft lip locks, never any gently massaging hands on her shoulders, it was never this quiet.

All of these observations accumulated into Evelyn's brain, and it sent her heart into a slight frenzy when it all started to add up for her. A catch of breath in Sera's throat pulled her out of her revelry, feeling the walls of the girl's sex begin to shudder around her fingers. The elven rogue buried her face in Evelyn's neck as she began to rise to her peak, but a soft request from the human made her pull back.

"Look at me, my imp?"

Green and grey seas began to crash around Evelyn when their eyes made contact again. The sound of her blood rushing through her ears was louder than the popping and crackling as flames gnawed on logs, or the wails of the wind beating against the panes of glass in the windows. Without even thinking about it, she brought her thumb up to lightly brush the completely engorged nub, one that was no longer hiding in its little sheath of skin in the elf's folds. The hands rubbing her shoulders tightened as Sera's hips jerked unevenly and her sex clamped down hard around Evelyn's fingers, the archer's mouth fell open with shaky breaths and low whimpers as she came. Her pupils were dilated and swimming in emotion, her freckled cheeks tinged in red, and her forehead shimmered with a light sheen of sweat as she trembled against her.

She had never looked so _perfect_.

And it made Evelyn ache deep in her breastbone with the knowledge of what it all meant.

* * *

**Jader**

Writing letters that requested information in roundabout ways had always been a headache for Hawke. She was well versed in speaking and writing in code, but it never failed to leave her with a slight throb at her temples. Her only saving grace this time was that Isabela had disembarked hours ago to find a watering hole and a whore, leaving Hawke to be able to think in peace without her lover's loud mouth flapping about distractingly.

This wasn't her first letter to Warden Stroud about red lyrium. It wasn't even her second. But each reply the warden had sent to her was a further disappointment that no one in the Order had ever seen or heard of such a thing before the Kirkwall debacle. Stroud, like Varric, knew the schedule of their trade route, and knew which port to send what letters. She knew that they would be docked here for a few weeks for maintenance and to give Hawke herself time to sort out what she wanted to do about the whole Inquisition nonsense; she told Stroud as much in this letter she was finishing up.

She pulled a traveling pack over her shoulder and took a glance around the captain's quarters for anything she or Isabela might have forgotten to pack that morning, but saw nothing of importance. Blowing out the candle she'd written by on the desk, Hawke turned and left the room.

Merrill was waiting for her on the portside, her own bag thrown over her shoulder haphazardly, a beaming grin stretching her vallaslin on her face. "I was thinking maybe I missed you, but then I remembered that Isabela left alone a long time ago, and that Bethany and Ellen had already gone, too. But I didn't want to bother you if you were trying to be alone, so I waited here just in case I didn't miss you, and here you are!"

Hawke couldn't help but to smile back. Maker's balls, she loved this scatterbrained elf. "You didn't miss me. I'd have come sooner if I knew you were waiting. I figured you went off with the kids." She and Isabela always referred to Bethany and Ellen together as "the kids". Beth being Hawke's youngest sibling, and Ellen being quite literally barely past childhood at a mere eighteen summers at the time, made it a viable description. Hawke used to tease Beth mercilessly about robbing the cradle, but her sister shut her up one day by pointing out that it was Ellen that took her virginity, not the other way around. The teasing lost its appeal after that gruesome mental image had flashed in the older Hawke's mind.

"They seemed like they needed some time alone," Merrill said shyly, a blush coming to her cheeks. "Something about rings. Isn't that a shemlen thing? Marriage rings?"

Hawke frowned deeply, not liking the fact that the kids were set on marrying. She couldn't deny that Ellen loved her sister, and would do right by her, but Hawke had a distaste for ceremonial displays of affection in general. But when she thought about having a claim on Isabela that way, something inside of her purred with a contentment that pissed her off and made her want to cry in despair all at once.

"Isn't that just ducky," Hawke muttered darkly, rolling her blue eyes at the thought as they walked down the ramp to the docks.

"It is, isn't it?" Merrill gushed, not catching on to the sarcasm of Hawke's statement. "It's really very sweet. I wish it would happen for me."

Hawke's heart broke a bit at the blood mage's words. As adorable as Merrill could be, she was awkward and nervous, and also prone to random bouts of uncontrolled magic. These things didn't make her very approachable to begin with, and when you threw in Isabela's death glare at anyone who got too close to her Kitten, it was nearly impossible for Merrill to find any sort of romantic kinship.

"It'll happen," Hawke said now, reaching over and throwing an arm around the girl's neck. "You just haven't bumped into him, yet."

"Him?" Merrill asked, surprised. "What makes you think it will be a man?"

Hawke's brow furrowed, not expecting that response at all. "Well… her, too. Why, are you not into men?"

"I don't know," Merrill admitted, blushing again. "I mean, I had my crush on you, and you're not a man. But then there was that nice elven friend of Isabela's from Antiva. He was really charming." Her blush grew deeper. "And he even kissed me."

Hawke pursed her lips at the mention of Zevran. She didn't really care for the guy. Every time she met with the insatiable elf, he was trying to talk Isabela into bed. While that normally wouldn't have bothered her much, and she might have even consented to a threesome, the history between he and her captain was too much for Hawke's jealousy to bear. When she'd walked in and found him half atop Merrill with his tongue down her throat, that had been the final line. Hawke had snatched him off of her and demanded to know what the hell he thought he was doing. When he couldn't give her an answer, she'd tossed him at Isabela and told her to deal with him. They hadn't seen him since.

"Zevran was taking advantage of you. I couldn't let that happen," she said quietly to Merrill now, not meeting her eyes as the two moved through the crowded docks towards the city.

"I wanted it to happen. How is that taking advantage? I wanted to know what it feels like." There was an accusatory undertone to Merrill's words that caught Hawke off guard and made her feel a slight bit guilty.

"The first time should be… I don't know, with someone that isn't him," Hawke said, frustrated. "He's a snake, Merrill."

"I've heard others say the same about you, and I don't think it's true. Even if it wasn't love, it could have been fun. You kept that from me."

"Merrill–"

"I'm going to go back to the ship, I think," Merrill interrupted her, looking back over her shoulder. "I forgot, there's a book I wanted to read." She pulled away from Hawke's arm and turned around without another word, walking back towards the boat's plank.

Hawke watched from below as the mage made her way back onto the ship and disappeared into the door down to the bunks. She felt a sinking feeling in her gut, knowing she'd fucked up. She had a hard time as seeing the elf as a woman, not a child, because of her naivety. When things like this happened it threw her mind off its course and waylaid her reality. Merrill was nearly thirty summers, and had never known another's body against her own. And despite her personal grudges against Zevran, he had been kind to Merrill, and had made her smile in the brief time he was on board the ship with them. Hawke hated to think she may have stolen Merrill's only chance.

She shook her head at herself, and continued to push through the mess of dock workers and sailors, her mind returning to her task of sending off this latest missive to Stroud. She felt like the sooner she got the letter off, the sooner his reply would come. Depending on what the letter read, Hawke would make a decision whether or not to travel to Haven.

* * *

**Jader**

Merrill was furious with Hawke, but didn't want to argue with her. The human was irritatingly steadfast in her opinions, even when she was wrong. The futility of pressing your own points against her was as strong as trying to convince Isabela to go a day without drinking. " _Dirthara-ma_ , Marian Hawke!" she cursed under her breath as she made her way down the steps to her cubby near the captain's quarters. "The nerve of that woman sometimes…."

It wasn't until she entered the tiny berth that she realized the book she'd wanted to read was the one she was about to purchase from the bookseller. She slapped a hand to her forehead, silently cursing at Hawke again for upsetting her and making her forget she hadn't bought it. "Ugh, now I have to go alone. _Fenedhis._ "

Crowds were the scariest thing about being alone. She felt like every eye on the dock was upon her as she walked as fast as she could towards the city's market district, making eye contact with no one. She knew her vallaslin caused her to stand out from the city elves that dwelled here, so there wasn't even any hope in blending in with them. She was lucky that Jader was a regular stop on Isabela's route and that she'd been here numerous times in the past four years. The landmarks she'd noted in her own mind to keep her route fixed and familiar were all still there, and it wasn't long before she found herself in the market.

Big green eyes scanned the many stalls stocked with wares of all sorts, looking for a particular dwarven merchant with a stall laden in books and scrolls. She spotted him on the opposite side of the market, shouting off advertisements to the passing patrons. Breathing a deep sigh of relief, she crossed through the cobbled street.

"Back again, I see!" The merchant grinned jovially at the Dalish elf as she drew near. Merrill knew he was always happy to see her, Bethany, and Ellen because the three of them spent most of their coin with him when they were at port.

"Yes, here I am!" she replied just as happily, eyes only on the stack of tomes by his elbow. "I wondered if you have the latest copy of _Hard In Hightown_ available?"

 _Hard in Hightown_ was Varric's hit series. It gave her comfort to read her dear friend's words, if she couldn't speak to him. She missed the dwarf terribly.

"I do! Hot off the press. Master Tethras managed to find time to write, even when he is saving the world, or so the rumors have it!"

"Oh, yes, he's with the Inquisition," Merrill said thoughtlessly, making the dwarf in front of her give her a curious look. Then she remembered she was supposed to pretend she didn't know Varric personally. "I mean, that's what I've heard, as well."

He reached up to the top book on a stack to his right, sliding it off and handing it over to Merrill with a smile. "Anything else you'd like today?"

"Um, no, I think this is it," she replied absently, admiring the cover of this one. Donnic looked especially gallant. Aveline was a lucky woman.

"Three sovereigns and you're good to go, my lady!"

"Oh! Oh, yes, of course. Here…." She fished inside her robe for the inner pocket and fingered out three separate coins, handing them off to a very pleased merchant. "Thank you, so much!"

He gave a bow to her as he dropped the coins into his own purse. "Always a pleasure to serve, my lady. Until next time!"

Merrill turned away and started back for the ship, opening the book in her hands. The cover creaked when she pulled it back, and she smiled softly at the sound. She loved books. She loved the smell of the ink and paper, loved the weight of them in her hands, but mostly loved how lost she became in their stories. Varric was particularly good at making immersive tales, and with the way he'd left the last installment, she was eager to read its resolution.

But Merrill, for all her life, was never the type to be able to walk and do anything else. So when she made the mistake of reading the first paragraph on the opening page, she sealed her fate. She collided with someone, falling back onto her rump with the impact, seeing her book and apples go flying everywhere.

"Oh, Mythal! I'm so sorry!" she apologized on reflex, beginning to hurriedly gather the fallen fruit.

"Mythal, huh?" came an amused voice from above her. " _Ir abelas, ris asha._ "

Merrill felt a jerk in her heart to hear her native language spoken so fluidly. She looked up to see first the vallaslin of Elgar'nan, and second that it was drawn onto a female elf with long dark red hair and a small smile. She couldn't help but to stare for a moment, having gone so long without contact with any other Dalish after being condemned to life among shemlen. But it wasn't only that; the elf was beautiful. She was darker skinned than Merrill, but had the same green eyes as she herself possessed. She was thin, as were all elves, but she had muscle to her that marked her days in the forest. The last thing Merrill noticed was the staff strapped to her back, and she knew right away that she was looking at another Dalish mage.

" _Aneth ara,_ " she breathed out to this stranger, unable to tear her eyes away if only long enough to get to her feet and hand her back her apples.

The elf in front of her held a half empty basket out towards her, and Merrill stared at it in confusion until it finally clicked that the apples in her arms belonged inside it. She placed the five or six fruits back inside, and took the book the woman handed her when she bent down to pick it up and dust it off for Merrill. A tanned hand extended out to her, and Merrill took it as well, allowing her to pull her back to her feet. Her sleeve fell back when she reached her hand up to clasp the other elf's, and she saw the woman's eyes fix on the pale silver scars that ran down the inside of her forearm. She snatched her sleeve down quickly when she was on her feet, pretending to straighten her robes, but the stranger didn't mention the marks.

"I'm Dora, of the Lavellan clan," she told Merrill with that same small smile on her face. Merrill wondered if she recognized what the scars were, if she could still smile at her.

"Merrill," she replied in barely more than a whisper, trying hard to figure out why her heart was beating so fast. She was always nervous meeting strangers, but she always had Hawke, Isabela, Bethany, or Ellen there to help keep her calm. If she didn't figure out why this woman made her so jittery, she was going to end up lighting her on fire by accident.

"I don't have a clan." The curious look that crossed Dora's features made her realize how odd that must sound, and she felt like she had to explain. "I did, once. Of course. The Sabrae clan in the Free Marches. But I wasn't born there. I was born in Nevarra, to the Alerion clan. But I am a ma–" She cut herself off, blushing deeply. "I'm rambling, I'm sorry."

To her wonder, the elf laughed, holding her belly. "Spirits, you're adorable. Can't I just put you in my pocket and keep you?"

Merrill studied the woman's robes with a frown. "Do you actually have pockets that deep?"

A look of surprise lit Dora's eyes. "Well, I didn't mean it literally, but now that you mention it, I wish I did." She winked at her, hoisting the basket further up her arm.

That only confused Merrill further, but she didn't press Dora for answers. "I, um, should get back to the ship. It was really nice meeting you."

"Ship? You traded the forest for the sea? Intriguing," Dora said, raising her eyebrows. "How long are you to be here?"

Merrill shrugged because she didn't really know. "I'm a passenger, not a pi–er, sailor. I don't know how long we're anchored."

"I haven't seen any Dalish since I've landed here, and I won't be here much longer. I'm joining the Inquisition, so this is just a stop on my journey." She bit her lip, eyes scanning Merrill like she wanted to say more and wasn't sure she should. "If you're still here this time tomorrow, you should meet me back here," she finally said, her face darkening just a bit. "I would like to talk."

"Talk about what?" Merrill asked suspiciously, glancing around them for anyone waiting to ambush her while she was distracted. Hawke had taught her that.

"Anything," Dora blurted quickly, tucking her wave of dark auburn hair behind her long ear. "It's been… lonely. I left my clan two months ago. I miss it. Seeing you here has been a treat for me. Please meet me tomorrow, Merrill?"

"All right." She couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth right now. Hawke was going to be so angry with her for talking to strangers, much less making plans to meet with one. Unless…. "Could I maybe bring a friend? She's human, though."

Dora's ears drooped a bit, but she nodded her head, regardless. "That's okay. I don't mind humans. My clan is well acquainted with the shemlen in our area."

Merrill gave a faint smile. "I can tell. You've only said a handful of elven since we started talking."

"Is that a bad thing?"

Merrill shook her head quickly. "No, no. I'm a bit of a historian of our people, but I hardly use our language at all because I have no one that speaks it. Today was nice."

White teeth flashed at her. "Most Firsts are historians, myself included."

Merrill's jaw dropped and she looked around again, making sure no one heard. She didn't want to be singled out as an elven apostate, even if the shemlen's precious Circles were no more. Mages were still viewed as nothing more than dangerous criminals to most. "I really should get back to the ship before they notice I'm gone. They'll think I got lost and come looking for me."

Dora gave a nod, a sad look on her face that made Merrill's heart ping. But then her ears perked back up and she gave Merrill a hopeful look. "But tomorrow?"

Merrill gave a single nod. "I'll be here. I promise."

Dora grinned and shot her another wink before she waved and moved off into the crowd. Merrill watched until she couldn't see her any longer. A piece of herself wanted to sprint after her and keep talking, but she knew she was right about them coming back and finding her missing. Isabela would slaughter everyone until she figured out where her Kitten had wandered off to.

"Oh, dear," Merrill sighed to herself as she finally made her way towards the ship. "Whatever is Hawke going to say about this?"

* * *

**Redcliffe**

Nervousness was eating up Sera's gut. She rode in front of her Shiny like always, the woman's hand holding her around her waist. The entire ride to Redcliffe from Haven had been just like this. They didn't really speak, communicating in looks and touches alone. When they camped, there was no teasing and torturing each other. They even kept a watch together without anything more than a cuddle by the fire with a few stories from both of their pasts. There were a few jokes passed between them, but Sera knew that their few days snowed in together alone had shifted something between them.

Not in a bad way, either.

Hearing more about Evelyn's childhood had been the start. It had made Sera angry with a protective vindictiveness when she heard the things her lover told her that day by the lake, and in the stories Evelyn shared with her when they were locked in the cabin during those two days–when they weren't busy doing other things. Sera felt a smile pull at her lips at the thought of "other things". Even that had been different, but she couldn't exactly say how. All she knew was that it had become something more than chasing orgasms for both of them. She also knew that her feelings for the assassin were strong, but the few days before the summons from Alexius arrived had shown her that they were even stronger than she believed. It confused her that she wasn't tucking tail and running the other direction, as she had in the past when things got to be too deep for her.

But even the mere thought of leaving Evelyn at all made her feel sick.

When Leliana had come to the door after the snow had begun to melt away beneath the sun that had decided to shine, neither of the women had begrudged the duty ahead. Once upon a time, both would have grumbled and Evelyn would have only reluctantly complied with the spymaster's wishes to meet in the council chambers. Sera had gone with Evelyn to the meeting, that was also new. She'd always taken the meetings as chances to practice or drink, whatever would keep her occupied until Shiny was free to play again. But this time, something pushed her to follow Evelyn into the Chantry and past the heavy doors at the end of the hall. When the plan was laid out with the help of Dorian and Tyus–the mage that had been following them this whole time–she knew why it had felt so. This was serious. It was dangerous. They wanted her Shiny, and Sera would be damned if she was gonna let that happen.

Content in the knowledge that Leliana's men would be following them and sneaking into the castle through under passages that the spymaster had used with Tabris during the Blight, Sera and Cassandra both refused to be anywhere but by Evelyn's side as she made her way up to the castle now. Alexius had requested that he meet with the Herald alone to negotiate, but no one thought that a good idea. Tyus, Bull and Varric waited in Redcliffe village for signs of trouble, and Dorian paced himself behind the three women, still not ready to reveal himself to his former mentor.

They left their horses in the courtyard and walked up the steps to the doors to the main hall. Two Venatori guards stood sentry on either side, and they crossed their weapons as the three approached, barring entrance.

"The Herald is to go in alone," one of the men said disdainfully, lightly scowling at Cassandra. The other regarded Sera with barely concealed disgust, his eyes trained on her ears.

Sera wanted to reach back into her quiver, grab an arrow, and shove it through his face, but she held her composure. She knew that this was important, and her temper would just have to simmer.

"These are my advisors," Evelyn said brightly, jerking a thumb at each of them. "This big one is mean, I wouldn't piss her off. And the little one is as rabid as a blight-sick wolf. I'd let them come, if I were you."

_I'll show you rabid, Shiny. Just wait until this is over._

The guards exchanged a look, then the one that had spoken gave a little shrug. They pulled their weapons back and the silent one opened the doors for them to pass. The castle was dark inside, and cold. They passed several unlit grates on their way towards the throne room, and Sera wondered if perhaps magic worked better without the light of a fire.

_Dirty gits, wouldn't put it past them to attack in the dark. That's how evil works, innit?_

But the throne room itself was well lit, every brazier and grate alight with bright, dancing flames, the atmosphere almost friendly except the fake smile on the arsehole magister's face as the three entered the room. The kid with the blight sickness that had given them the message in the tavern stood to his father's left, and that old lady elf stood just behind the throne to his right. The hall itself was lined with Venatori guardsmen, standing at attention as the passed.

"My friend!" Alexius greeted Evelyn with a wide, slimy smile. "How wonderful it is to see you again."

"Magister," Evelyn replied easily, even politely. She returned his sickly sweet smile and bowed her head a bit. "I am pleased to see your son is well."

"As well as he can be… for now." He made a motion for the party to come closer, and leaned forward in Arl Teagan's seat. "So, you've come for the mages. I've had a little time to form my stipulations, but I would hear what you have to offer me before I voice them."

"Nothing," Evelyn said, shrugging her shoulders with that same shit eating grin on her face. "I offer you absolutely nothing. I'm going to take them and leave."

 _You tell 'im, Shiny._ Sera couldn't hold back her smirk. She was so proud.

Alexius gave a full throated laugh as if Evelyn had just told the funniest joke he'd ever heard, shaking his head at her. "You have quite the sense of humor, Herald."

"So I've been told," Evelyn agreed, glancing over at Cassandra with a wink. "But I'm sorry to say that I am not joking, this time. Hand over the mages, Alexius. We need not come to blows."

The smile finally faded from the old geezer's face as his already beady eyes narrowed further. "What makes you think I will do as you ask?"

"She knows, Father," Felix spoke up from beside the man, and his sire's head whipped over to look at him in horror. "I told her everything."

"Felix! What have you done?" he gasped, shooting to his feet. "Do you have any idea—?"

"He does," a new voice came from behind the trio at the foot of the dais, and Sera looked over her shoulder to see Dorian striding up to them, eyes on Alexius and a grim look on his ridiculously handsome face. "He's trying to make you remember who you are, before he loses you forever."

"Dorian," Alexius growled, taking his staff in his hand. "I offered you a position in this, and you refused."

"As I would again, a thousand times. So would the man I knew, the man that was my mentor, more a father to me than my own. Why are you doing this, Alexius?" Dorian's voice held a note of betrayal, and Sera scoffed to herself.

_Better keep a watch on him, if this gets ugly._

"Stand down, Alexius," Evelyn called up to him, her hands on her hip daggers. Sera took this as a sign and pulled her bow free, even if she did not arm it, and she heard the ring of Cassandra's sword leaving its sheath at the same moment. "You'll not be the victor here today, and I'll not warn you again."

"Thief," he spat, reaching into his robes and pulling out a necklace with a bright red gem gleaming from it. "You are a child playing with things you do not have the capacity to understand. That mark on your hand does not belong to you, and it does not make you a prophet. The Elder One wills this, you fool! It shall be as he deems it so!"

Weapons were drawn all around, but before anyone could make a move to attack the mad magister, the gem on the necklace began to glow with a blinding light just as Dorian and Evelyn both rushed up the stairs of the dais towards Alexius. It swelled until it filled the entire room, making Sera and Cassandra shield their eyes, but then it was gone just as quickly.

But so were Evelyn and Dorian.

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

Her bow was drawn and pointing straight at Alexius before she even realized she was yelling. "Poncy piece of—!" But before she could finish her curse or release her arrow, Evelyn and Dorian reappeared; both now looking worse for wear and Evelyn–covered in _blood–_ glared daggers at Alexius with her very literal counterparts clutched tightly in her fists. Sera could see the blood that remained on the blades, and she didn't understand what could have happened when they only disappeared for a second. She didn't lower her bow, reading the attack in Evelyn's stance, feeling the waves of rage rolling off of the tall human woman.

_If Shiny goes for him, arrow to the throat, too fuckin' happy to finally shut him up._

"You'll have to do better than that," Dorian chuckled weakly, glancing nervously at the Herald as she heaved with panting breath next to him, her cutting eyes never leaving his former teacher.

Sera looked back and forth between them, brow furrowed. Something wasn't right. Evelyn didn't feel right, didn't feel like the woman that had disappeared. Something entirely new was in the room, and it wanted Alexius dead. But then Evelyn started to speak, and it sent a sharp cold chill down Sera's spine when the woman's almost unrecognizable voice reached her sensitive ears.

"I cannot kill you–again–for crimes you've yet to commit," she said as if she were disappointed she was saying the words at all, her stance easing some when Alexius slumped in defeat of his situation.

_Wait… what's she mean, 'again'?_

"But you will be held until someone can pass judgment upon you. You disgust me." She looked up at the Inquisition soldiers that had infiltrated the room and taken out his Venatori guard. "Arrest him, take him back to Haven."

"None of this matters," Alexius said quietly, not looking at any of them as he was cuffed and shackled. "The Elder One is strong, stronger than you can even imagine. He is a living god… He would have cured Felix. I did what I must."

_The Elder One sounds like a right bloody pisser. Hope we don't have to meet him._

Evelyn sneered at him, taking a step forward to bend forward into Alexius' face, jerking him closer by the front of his robes. "I'm not letting you live out of _mercy_ , you son of a bitch," she snarled in a tone that made everyone take a step away from the pair. "You took _everything_ from me in that place, do you understand me? I'm letting you live out of my honor as the fucking _Herald of Andraste_ because it will not come to pass. But if you step so far as belching too loudly, I will be the one at the other end of the blade that takes your life, again. This blood on my blades? Some of it is _yours_." She pushed him away from herself and stood straight, her throat working furiously, her face turning a deep red. Tortured green eyes touched with stormy grey across the room, and Sera lowered her bow slowly as Evelyn took a jerky step forward towards her.

_The fuck…? Shiny?_

The doors to the room slammed open, catching everyone inside off guard. In strode a man with blond hair, square of jaw, adorned with a simple crown. The ones that recognized Alistair Theirin right away gave deep bows to the King of Ferelden, and when they gave their respects it clued everyone else in as to who had just stormed into the hall.

"I demand to know the meaning of this," he said, his eyes touching on every face gathered before him. "The arl, chased from his own castle by Tevinter mages coming here to make alliances with the rebel mages! I've had enough! The mages are done here." He stopped, seeing the man in shackles before him. "Oh," he said lightly, a complete turn around from the bellow he had sounded upon entering. "What have we here? Inquisition?"

"Your Majesty," Cassandra said with a bow, and Alistair gave her a nod.

"Lady Pentaghast. The Herald of Andraste, as well, unless I'm not seeing the green light on your hand, there." He pointed a single finger at Evelyn's hand like a curious child.

"Evelyn Trevelyan, Your Majesty," Evelyn said with a formal bow that made Sera give a quiet snort.

_Look at her. This tit, bowing like she's done it a zillion times. She really is a noble, first time I saw it. Not sure if I like it. It ain't Shiny._

"Magister Gereon Alexius, I presume?" Alistair said to the man in chains, frowning deeply. "I think I'll let the Inquisition have you. You don't want to know the justice you'd face in Denerim."

"None of this matters," Alexius repeated, and Sera saw Evelyn physically twitch with the effort not to strike the man. "Do with me what you will. He still comes."

"I'll have a chat and a cup of tea with him when he arrives. Don't worry, I'll give him your love, you sick fuck," Evelyn growled, then stopped with a blush creeping up her neck as she remembered the king's eyes upon her. "Er–sorry, Your Grace, I forget myself in my resentment of this creature's breath."

Alistair gave a look around, squinting. "Did I hear something?" He was playing stupid to witnessing whatever Evelyn wanted to do, and it made Sera's eyebrow raise, especially when he looked back down at her Shiny and gave her a _charming_ smile.

_Oho, bendy metal hat or not, that's mine, "Your Majesty"._

"King Alistair," Fiona's wavering tone rose from behind the chained form of her former master. "We have nowhere to go…."

His face immediately hardened as his gaze cut to the aging elf that had addressed him. "That is not my problem. Wherever you go, make sure it is out of Ferelden. You are no longer welcome here. I tried to help, in honor of mages I've known, but you've shown me you cannot be trusted." His face softened just a bit, but his eyes remained set in his determination. "I am truly sorry it came to this, Fiona."

Evelyn gave a loud scoff. "Need I _really_ remind you that the Inquisition needs mages to close the Breach? Don't be dramatic, Fiona, it's getting really fucking old, really fucking quick. The mages are free to do as they'd like, but I would appreciate a faction to come with us to Haven. We have fucking work to do." She looked at the king again, her face a hard mask just like his. "The Inquisition takes responsibility for the free mages of Thedas, if they're willing to have our help."

The king gave nod, looking rather relieved, while all Sera could do was stand there with a single word ringing through her head.

_Free._

Something inside of her snapped, and she was turning and walking out of the room the next second without really thinking about what she was doing. They were free. They could be in the market, casting spells and cutting themselves and busting into friggin' demons all over the place. There was no tower to stuff them in. There were no templars to watch them, to keep them where they belonged. The Herald was the most powerful voice in Thedas, and she had spoken.

 _All because of her fuckin' sister. She's ruined everything because of her freak sister. She's the reason the world is fallin' apart. She doesn't care, she never did. She wouldn't do this if she friggin' cared. Her bloody sister ain't even around, wonder if she'd have done this if Cullen hadn't have told her she was alive? Arse-nugget! And I_ really _liked that one, too… Fuck._

Sera thought about how Evelyn had been so careful and gentle with her the last few times they were intimate, the look in her eyes as she held her after. She thought about the things Evelyn told her about her past, and the things she had told Evelyn.

_I fuckin' trusted her. Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

Every step away from Evelyn brought more thoughts that only added to the misery sinking in her gut that was quickly catching fire with her slowly rising temper. _Was getting too close, can't let them in, dummy. Should have known she was a fuckin' prick… I told her what happened. She knew, and she did it, anyway. She didn't even care what he did—fuck this. Fuck this._

* * *

Evelyn watched silently as Sera, very much alive and unbroken, turned around and hurried out of the room, not glancing back once. Evelyn felt her heart sink even lower. She'd been unbelievably naïve to think that Sera would be okay with her freeing the very thing that terrified her most. Cassandra had also shot her a poisonous look before shaking her head heavily in disappointment. It hurt more than Evelyn wanted to acknowledge, but she didn't think she was wrong. Mages deserved the chance to prove that they did not need cages, that they did not need ruthless jailers, and that the Chantry did not have to come in and rip apart families, anymore.

" _I love you… been wishin' I said it lots."_

Evelyn's chest clenched, and she shut her eyes against the pain the memory brought into her chest.

_Ice blue eyes, hollowed, a red glow deep within. "Look at us, we're already dead."_

_Everything is red. Red…_

_Like her hair._

" _Go! You have as much time as I have arrows!"_

_Everything is red. Red…_

_So much red._

_Red smock… red caked through golden strands, red smeared across the floor when the marionette with the snipped strings slid nearly straight up to Evelyn, as if the monster that had slung her lover's lifeless body at her had known how much it would hurt her. Red when the body fell onto it's back and the neck turned unnaturally and Evelyn couldn't break her eyes from the red tinged glossy orbs that seemed to see everything and nothing all at once. The sea was empty. It had evaporated, leaving just the red._

"So much red," she whispered now, hearing the bustle of the others still in the room, but suddenly feeling very alone. She looked down at her hands, her blades. There was still red on both from the men they cut down between where they'd appeared in that future and where they stood now. She realized all at once that she was shaking, and she stared at her hands as her fingers loosened around the hilts of her blades and they clattered carelessly to the stone beneath her boots. She wiped her hands on the front of her pants, but there was still red. It wouldn't go away. "Everything is red. I need to… I need to bathe," she said in flat tone to anyone that was listening, if anyone at all was bothering to listen.

She numbly took a few steps forward before she felt hands on her shoulders, and she blankly looked up into Cassandra's concerned gaze. Her mouth was moving, but Evelyn couldn't string together what the words could mean, she was starting to feel like she needed to bathe and lie down. She'd just watched this woman die in front of her as well as Sera and Leliana, all three of them giving their lives to buy Dorian time to work the spell that brought them back from that hellish reality. Yet here the Seeker was, slightly shaking her as she continued to say things Evelyn wasn't comprehending, but she saw no red in her eyes. She let her gaze shift over Cassandra's shoulder and towards the closed doors at the end of the hall. She'd seen them bow in as if they were breathing before shattering and admitting demons of all breeds, the Elder One's version of a siege. Here they remained intact, just like the lives of those she'd watched be slaughtered.

" _I love you… been wishin' I said it lots."_

Evelyn touched bloodied fingers to her bottom lip, the ghost of a kiss still pressed there with all the roughness of cracked skin and bitter goodbyes.

" _Maybe now I can, Shiny."_

Hands guided her to the door, she did notice that. She was kind of caught somewhere between "Is this real life or just a fantasy?" and "I can't believe we are even alive."

She suddenly stood up straight backed and looked at Cassandra, clear eyed and fully aware. "I need to be alone, please," she said simply, giving the Seeker an even stare.

"What? No, something is not right here. I wouldn't forgive myself if I allow you this, and I am not there when something happens. I am sorry, Herald."

"It wasn't a request, Seeker." Evelyn purposefully returned the formality, keeping her tone as even as her expression. "I require time spent alone in a bath, and then to sleep. I will discuss this further once I have had time to wrap my head around the things we saw. If Dorian feels like sharing, please allow him to give you the details if for nothing more than to spare me the pain." She held up her unmarked hand when Cassandra opened her mouth to likely protest, but at the same time she gave a deep sigh. "Please. For me."

"All right," Cassandra agreed reluctantly, giving a suspicious glance back at Dorian, who watched the exchange with an interested expression. "We shall speak about this then, Tevinter."

"Dorian, dear Seeker. A man is but an individual defined by far more than his countrymen's reputations."

Cassandra gave an answering grunt, which may have sounded like a grudging dismissal to an untrained ear, but Evelyn knew it meant Cassandra was observing his character and reserving her judgment for now. But Evelyn didn't care about how anyone else felt about anyone else at the moment. She just wanted to be left the fuck alone in a room. The only person she wanted to speak to most likely would not spare her a look again, much less trade pleasantries or just let Evelyn touch her face just to make sure she was real. That's what she wanted to do when His Majesty came through those doors: she wanted to pull the girl to her and just feel her body, feel her heart beat. This Elder One had a fight on his hands and he didn't even realize it. That world had overstepped it's boundaries the moment the demons murdered her imp.

She glanced back at the form of Gereon Alexius being hauled to his feet by Inquisition soldiers, and at the mournful, pale face of the blight-tainted young man that watched his father be carted away as a criminal. Evelyn paused to listen to the last exchange between the men, her ice coated regard to the old magister melting just the tiniest bit at his pleading tone. She watched as he looked at his son beseechingly, willing him to understand his reasons and forgive him for what he'd done in Felix's name. Felix gazed back at his father with a sad look in his dark eyes, a wistful twist to his full lips.

"You'll die," the sire whispered painfully to his young heir, who shook his head slowly at the words.

"Everyone dies, Father." The pain in his voice hurt Evelyn more. She liked Felix. She saw the sincerity in the mage, felt his desperation in his plea for his father. That was among the reasons Evelyn had decided to see to the issue in Redcliffe over chasing templars that wanted nothing to do with the Inquisition.

She felt for him. She felt for him as she felt for all the innocent mages that were decent people that were ruled by fear and persecution, the families that were torn to pieces when templars came to call. She did it for people like Solas, Dorian, and her friend in Ostwick, Nadine. She did it for Ellen. She did it for Bethany, whom she'd never met but truly hoped to have the freedom to do so one day.

She did it so they could be _people_.

If they chose to start an establishment for higher magical purpose where mages could congregate and study and practice in a safe environment, and be self sufficient within its politics and security, then let them be the ones to choose to do so. Let them have the choice. There are other ways of dealing with abominations and power mad blood mages. The red stains on her blades from that future's Alexius were enough to prove that.

Having done the village of Redcliffe a boon in removing the mage threat, the Herald and her company were offered rooms in Redcliffe Castle that night by Arl Teagan Guerrin, and Evelyn had been so lost in her thoughts that the words hadn't reached her ears. Cassandra had accepted with heavy gratitude, her concern for the woman in front of her showing on her face. But Evelyn didn't have the strength to put on the show for them that night. She just wanted the bath.

Too much red. So much red. Everything was **red**.

Even her bath water swirled around the tub in hues of light red, so she had the water changed until it was clear as it well should have been. It was not the first time she had washed blood from her skin, nor would it be her last, but this blood was different. It was tainted with the poison of red lyrium, every single guard she'd killed was infected, as was Leliana when they found her being tortured. It was the presence of Leliana's blood that made Evelyn's skin itch the most. The woman had lived and died for their cause. She, Cassandra, and Sera were no less than heroes for what had happened in that future.

She knew she'd been in the water for a long while, and thankfully had not been interrupted by Cassandra's needless mothering. She guessed that the Seeker was talking to Dorian about what had happened in the time that they'd disappeared. She was glad for it, if she were honest with herself. Nothing inside of her wanted to relive it for Cassandra's sake, going through the steps. Finding her, then Sera, and then Fiona.

Fiona had been nearly dead, just another column of red lyrium growing in the pits of Redcliffe Castle. It made Evelyn's stomach twist to even think about it. It was just as Leliana said after they'd found her and released her from her bindings, that even though it would not come to pass, it had. It was real for them. And it was real for Dorian and herself. It was her only comfort that she would be able to stop some key elements that helped mutate that chain of events while she was gone. A demon army. The assassination of Empress Celene. The Elder One. She had to figure out what to do to stop all of it.

Varric was right. This was more than just the Breach. It was just the fucking start. But if the Maker had a merciful piece in his ethereal form, he would let her die when she closed the Breach. He would send someone that was truly capable of fixing things like she'd seen, a person capable of keeping their heads on their shoulders and their attention on the problems at hand and not on how they feel about everything personally. She wasn't fully convinced she could make decisions and take action for the greater good. She didn't know if she was strong enough. How much more pressure could she take before she snapped? Sera helped with the burden, a breath of fresh air in a mire full of corpses like when she had faced the Avvar to save their men. But her decision today had likely cost her even that.

That's where she needed to be. She needed to see Sera, be it for comfort or closure, it needed to happen. Things in Evelyn's life couldn't be more chaotic than now, and she needed to clear the most prominent pain first, whether it be by reconciliation or throwing up a wall to block her feelings for the elf.

She pulled herself free of the bath in the room, tugging loose a towel on a nearby rack. She quickly dried off and dressed in somewhat fresher clothing from her bag. She packed her things back inside the satchel, leaving her dirty armor near the door. She didn't want to look at it anymore, and would invest her own coin to procure a different set just to erase the presence of the red that permeated the leather and dried darkly on the metal.

She hitched her pack onto her back and dropped a vial of her dust that cloaked her entire body in shadow, walking to the door and putting an ear to it to listen. She heard no movement directly beside it, and chanced to crack it open just enough to glance around for any sign of Cassandra. If this talk with Sera did not end well, she had already decided she would not be coming back to this room. She would leave the castle on her own, and head for Haven after a stiff drink in Redcliffe. Maker knows she deserved it.

She could see the Seeker further down the hall, in deep conversation with Dorian while Bull watched on with concern etched into his features. All three of them were so caught up in whatever it was Dorian was saying that none of them noticed when the door quietly clicked shut behind her as she snuck out into the hall. She'd seen Sera being led to a room a few doors down when they'd arrived, but the elf hadn't so much as glanced her way.

She tried the door, finding it locked, and clucked her tongue as she bent forward to look at it as she fished for a pick in her side satchel. It was simple to push the mechanism up and she heard the satisfying sound of it clicking as the door opened. She slid inside and shut it behind her, looking around the room and seeing Sera leaned against the window ledge, eyes scanning whatever was outside.

"Go away," the elf said without looking towards the invisible human rogue. "Got nothin' to say to you."

Evelyn's stomach twisted, but she didn't leave. Not yet. "Don't you want to know what happened when I disappeared, at least?"

Sera shrugged carelessly, still not turning her eyes into the room. "No. Don't care. You've screwed up everything, _Herald._ Now everyone's in the fire, thanks to you."

"That's not true." Evelyn's throat was dry, her voice cracked with the words. "They're not all monsters like you think they are, Sera. It's hypocritical of you to say they are. You're the one that says 'people are people'."

Sera finally pushed off of the frame and looked towards Evelyn, even though she couldn't see her, not truly. Evelyn flinched at the anger and hatred in the elf's eyes, and was thankful that the powder hadn't worn off so that Sera could see how much this was hurting her. She felt like she was breaking inside all over again, like she did when Sera died. She could feel the pressure of tears pressing against the backs of her eyes, and she took a steadying breath to try to control them as Sera answered her in a scathing tone.

"You're bloody selfish, and stupid, too, if you really believe that. You did this for yourself. You wanted to free your friggin' sister— who ain't even around, ain't seen her in years, will probably never see her again. High and mighty Herald of Andraste, Blessed Arse Biscuit. Who cares how many orphans will disappear, for blood magic shite and Maker knows what else? You don't. Kill the lot of them just so your precious sister is free, just so you get what _you_ want. Just like all the other noble shite bags." She gave a dry laugh, shaking her head. "I dunno what I was thinkin'. You really are a noble. Me and you? Ain't happening, so forget it. Now piss off."

The powder chose that moment to fade, and Evelyn found herself vulnerable to the look on Sera's face when she appeared in front of her. The archer turned positively green and jerked her face away, looking at the floor instead of the woman she'd shared so much with over the past couple months. The assassin held in a sob when she realized that sight of her face was making the imp physically sick, but the traitorous tears still slid free of her irises.

_It's really over…_

"I _said…_ **Piss.** **Off.** " Sera enunciated with scathing venom, then fully turned to the window, putting her back to Evelyn. Her shoulders nearly hiked up to her ears, and then she dealt the killing blow. "I don't wanna look at you anymore, Herald."

Evelyn felt something inside of her shift, and all of a sudden the sadness and heart break evaporated, just like the life in Sera's eyes when the demon slung the elf at her in that future. Something cold replaced it. She wiped away her tears, and none followed.

"And you truly mean that?" The tone was flat, vacant of emotion, but Sera didn't notice, or even worse—didn't care.

"You lied to me that night you cut Seggrit. You swore no one would ever hurt me again. Then _you_ did. So, yeah, I friggin' do," Sera spat venomously, her fists tightening at her sides.

Evelyn turned and walked for the door without another word, only pausing when whispered words cut through the coldness to pierce her heart one last time before she left the elf's sight for good.

"You never cared… User."

_I love you… been wishin' I said it lots._

Evelyn steeled her resolve, and dug into her pocket for another vial of dust, dropping it on the floor and disappearing once more into her comforting blanket of shadows. She left the room, willing herself to keep her hurt buried in the ice, each step away from the door proving harder than the last, yet easier all at once. She was numb from the elf's words, the look on her face.

The dust had worn off again by the time she made it to the stables, but that was all right. It wouldn't do to steal her own horse and cause a ruckus so that Cassandra came running with her sword drawn. The stable boys were in the middle of a card game when she appeared. "I'll need my mount prepared with haste, please," she said to them in that detached way.

She was already thinking about where she would even go. Back to Haven? Not tonight. No, she needed a drink and time to think about her next move. She needed to get as far away as she could from that closed door and the end of all possibilities with the woman she'd called hers for such a short time. The woman she didn't realize she was falling in love with until it was too late.

 _Those two days in the cabin… I knew. I knew, and didn't say anything. Would it have made a damn, if I did? Would she be more willing to listen if she knew that I was falling in love with her?_ Evelyn scoffed, shaking her head at herself as she ran her horse down to the bridge towards the village. _Doesn't matter. She's getting what she wants. I would never deny her anything she desired, even if it's to be rid of me. I honestly can't blame her. She deserves better, anyway._

Her glove hid the shine of her mark, and she pulled her hood up over her head as she slid off the back of her horse in front of the tavern. She tied him to the post, and gave him a pat on the side of his neck. She'd rent a room for the night, get happily drunk, and then leave for Haven ahead of the party at first light. She didn't want any of them to see her like this, like the weak piece of shit she felt she was. Once she was back in Haven, she wouldn't leave her cabin until it was time to seal the Breach. If Sera chose to return there, she would have her wish. Evelyn would be a ghost.

_Red. It was the red talking in the future, not Sera. Sitting in that cell for a year, the lyrium eating at her mind, dwelling on only good memories of us. She didn't love me; she loved an ideal of what we might have been. If she'd known then what I was going to do, would she still have said it?_

Evelyn touched her lips again with an ache inside of her that angered her.

_So fucking stupid. How long would it have been before she was bored with me, anyway? As soon as the Breach is closed, she'll be right back at her Jenny games again, and I'll be a joke she tells her next lover._

Evelyn scoffed to herself as she bought two bottles of whiskey and a room. She could imagine exactly what the elf would say, could hear her as plain as if she were right there, laughing in her face.

" _I frigged the Herald of Andraste a couple times. Shite sex, nice arse, though."_

She kicked the door to her room shut behind her when she entered, raising one of the bottles to her mouth and tugging the cork free with her teeth. She spit it out across the room, then turned the bottle up for a deep chug as she made her way over to the window, dropping her bag near the table beside it.

"Of course," she muttered to herself when her eyes fell on the view. Redcliffe Castle was lit up against the night. She was more than a mile away from the structure; but like the Breach, there it sat like a glowing beacon, mocking her and reminding her of her shitty day.

_The shittiest day in my life… and that's saying something._

She'd managed to lose Sera twice in a row. She took another hard swallow of whiskey, enjoying the heat of the liquid as it flowed down her esophagus and coated her aching belly.

_At least she's alive in this reality._

She gave a heavy sigh, again reaching up to touch her lips. Hours had passed, but she could still feel the dead elf's kiss goodbye. She was beginning to wonder if it would ever fade, fade like the light in her eyes had when the demon murdered her and flung her at Evelyn just before Dorian's spell began to work.

 _A circus sideshow. That's all today has been._ She took another drink of her whiskey.

Everything was still red.

* * *

There hadn't been a noise inside the room for hours. Not a thump, not a clearing of a throat, not a sneeze, nothing. Granted, the Herald could have fallen asleep after the trying day she'd had, but Cassandra knew that haunted eyes like Evelyn's found no rest. This was what prompted her to lightly knock on the heavy wooden door.

"Herald?" she called through it, waiting for a response that didn't come. A foreboding feeling slowly crept over her, and she pursed her lips.

_Surely not? She wouldn't…_

The Seeker cracked the door open, peeking around its edge to see an empty bed in a room where the candles still burned. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up when she pushed it all the way open and found the room completely devoid of a wise cracking rogue, but seeing the bloody armor in a pile on the floor beside where she stood in the doorway. She immediately turned and marched off down the hallway with an exasperated groan. There was only one place she thought she'd find her.

* * *

Several sharp raps sounded off of Sera's locked door, making her jump out of her skin. She'd gone wandering after she'd kicked that sorry noble _arse biscuit_ out on her bum, and managed to… _find_ … a couple bottles of piss weak wine in the kitchens of the castle. She was well into the second bottle with nary a buzz, but it was enough that it kept her from storming down the hall and shoving arrows down the _Herald's_ throat. That was exactly what she was fantasizing about when the knocks came.

She opened the door to find a highly annoyed Seeker craning her head around Sera to peer into her room behind her. "Is the Herald with you?" she demanded, making Sera scowl.

"No, and I don't care where she is," the elf said petulantly, sipping the open wine bottle in her hand.

Cassandra looked at her with confusion overriding the annoyance at Evelyn momentarily. "What? Did something happen?"

The elf shrugged, still scowling. "Yeah, it did. I finally saw she's just a noble arsehole like the rest of 'em. Told her to piss off."

Cassandra's jaw dropped, then snapped back shut as her face colored red in contained temper. "Why? Do you even know what she's been through today?"

Sera rolled her eyes. _Of course a noble sticks up for a noble._

"No, and I don't care. Freeing friggin' curtain wearers all because she's sobby about someone she ain't ever gonna see again. Whatever happened, she probably deserved it."

The glare in Cassandra's cinnamon eyes faded into a look of unmistakable pity, and it made Sera bristle with indignant reproach before the warrior even spoke. "I understand your fear," she said gently, which only incensed the elf more. She didn't want her fucking pity. "I also do not agree with her decision. But that Tevinter mage, Dorian, told me the things they witnessed today and I know now why she is not herself." She paused, then shook her head at the look Sera was giving her, as if she'd snap if Cassandra continued, but it didn't deter the Seeker from speaking her mind. "If you truly do not wish to know for yourself, and understand her position… then I am sorry to say _you_ do not deserve _her_. Good eve, Sera."

Something like a mix of rage and misery washed over the elf as she watched Cassandra turn away from her and leave the room, quietly closing the door behind her. Sera stared at the door for a split second before she rushed forward, snatching it open again. "Hey!" she yelled angrily at Cassandra's back as she walked down the hallway. "You can't say that! You don't even know me!"

The Hero of Orlais didn't even pause in her pace as she replied without looking back, "Just as it's clear you do not know Evelyn Trevelyan."

Hearing her name was like a stab to the gut. Sera slammed her door shut again with a growl of rage. "Nobs," she seethed, beginning to furiously pace back and forth against the rug. She turned up the wine bottle and finished it before throwing it as hard as she could against the far wall, shattering it. "The _fuck_ shite pile am I dancin' in now?! _Fuck!_ " She threw her hands up above her head, giving a sour look at the ceiling. "Andraste, you're gonna have to start makin' sense again, 'cause this is just daft! Your Herald is shite, and she's drivin' me friggin' loony!" She couldn't understand why, that even after what the woman did, some part of her–larger than she wanted to admit–still cared; why something inside of her was livid at herself for driving her away.

_That friggin' look on her face when we were snowed in. Like she ain't ever seen me before, and never wanted to stop lookin'. Ugh, why? All that fuzzy shite in my head, makin' me stupid! She didn't care, or she wouldn't have freed them… right?_

She slapped at the air with both hands angrily, growling in frustration just over the thought of Evelyn. She raked her fingers through her hair as she looked over at the last bottle of wine sitting on her table. "Sod this pissy grape juice, I need a fuckin' drink." She froze in mid-step as soon as the words came out of her mouth, then bolted for her door again, taking off down the hall after Cassandra.

"Cass!" she called as she rounded a corner to see Cassandra standing in the hall with Bull. "I know where that daft tit is. She's at the bloody tavern, probably piss drunk by now."

"Of course," Cassandra sighed, shaking her head. "You're right. Iron Bull and Varric will accompany me to get her. Thank you, Sera, and again, good night."

The archer rocked back on her heels, balking at the obvious dismissal. "Sod that," she spat, her face heating in anger. "I'm going. She's my—"

"—Herald," Cassandra cut her off pointedly, with a look to remind her of what she'd told the Seeker mere minutes ago.

Sera had no rebuke. The Seeker was right. She'd ended it between them hours ago. Evelyn wasn't her Shiny, anymore, she was free to do as she pleased. Her stomach lurched as a vision of Evelyn's naked back flashed in her mind, the muscles moving and the skin now scratched by a faceless tavern wench whose hands clutched at her shoulders, her legs around her waist. The image was directly followed by a suffocating surge of jealous possessiveness.

 _You gave that up. You gave_ her _up_ , she told herself silently, miserably, swallowing a lump of emotion she didn't recognize. _Why did she have to free the friggin' mages? And why do I still feel… whatever this is?_

"Doesn't matter," Sera finally said aloud, lifting her chin at Cassandra defiantly. "I'm going. I did this, I'll fix it."

"I'm not sure you can," Cassandra disagreed with a shake of her head. "She's not herself, as I've said. Perhaps you should wait to apologize."

"Who said anything about apologizing? I'm not sorry for being pissed that she's a bloody idiot."

Cassandra gave her a withering look. "Which is why I advise you to remain here at the castle while we go look for the Herald."

Sera wasn't going to give in. "Opinions are like arse holes, Cass."

The Seeker deflated, and the elf knew she'd won. "Go get you gear, Sera."

* * *

"Oi, did a human woman come in hours ago, buying two bottles of your top shelf and a room?" Sera leaned across the bar to yell at the balding barkeep over the raucous din around them. His back was to her as he filled several tankards from a barrel.

"Lots o' them, lass, be more specific," he called back without turning around as he distributed the ale to patrons on the opposite side of the counter.

"Her horse is out front, do not attempt to lie to us," Cassandra added warningly, and he still didn't turn to face them.

"Information doesn't come cheap," he started to say in a lofty tone, but he didn't continue when an arrow whizzed past his bulbous nose and embedded itself in the barrel with a _THUNK._

By the time he finally looked over at the four of them, Sera already had another arrow notched and drawn, pointed at his face. The last of his color drained as his throat worked up down. "Second floor, first door on the left."

Sera took the stairs two at a time, being eaten alive inside with worry that she couldn't even begin to justify. She didn't bother knocking on the door, just burst through it to see Evelyn seated at a table directly across from her. The elf felt a wave a relief when she found her alone and fully clothed, having vividly imagined otherwise the entire ride to the village on the back of Cassandra's horse.

She winced when Evelyn's eyes met hers before either spoke. She noted the almost empty bottle clasped in the fingers of her lover's ungloved right hand, noted one completely empty one on the table by her left elbow, and another full one sitting beside it. She also noted that Evelyn's eyes were as empty as the bottle she held.

"Feelin' better, yeah?" Sera weakly joked, gesturing at the bottle. _Maybe she knows I didn't mean it. Maybe we can stay here tonight and… talk? When the frig did I start caring about talkin'?_

For the first time since they'd met, Evelyn's eyes slid away from her as if she hadn't spoken, as if she wasn't even there, and settled on Cassandra just over the elf's shoulder.

It made Sera feel like she wanted to cry. Evelyn had never ignored her, not even once.

"I'd hoped that you wouldn't notice I was gone until morning," Evelyn slurred, raising the bottle to her lips and downing the rest of the liquor inside it. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve as she set the bottle down beside the others. "Would have been back to Haven by myself, if I could."

"Foolish notion, Evelyn," Cassandra replied in a tone that Sera had never heard her use. The thief looked over her shoulder and felt a rush of jealousy at the tender look in the Seeker's dark eyes as she looked at Evelyn. "Though one I understand, given the events of the day."

"You know." It wasn't a question, and the words made Sera's chest hurt, though she didn't know why.

"I do," Cassandra answered carefully, slowly moving around Sera to stand between her and Evelyn. The obvious statement the move made had Sera beginning to shake in anger. "Dorian told me everything. I am sorry, Evelyn."

 _What is she doing? I said_ I'd _fix this! I have to. I didn't mean what I said, I was pissed off. So stupid, frig me upside down. Andraste, please don't let it end like this._

"We can travel alone, if you'd like," Cassandra went on in that soft tone that was like knives to Sera's gut. "We can go ahead of the others. It will give you time to grieve and clear your mind."

_Hold on. Alone with my Shiny, giving her looks like that? No way, Seeker._

"I think," Evelyn said a second later, rubbing her face with her hand, "I think that would be best, yes. Out of sight of… everyone. When we're back home, I don't want anyone knocking on my door but you. Make that known. I want to be left the fuck alone until I close the Breach. Hopefully beyond that I'll be at the Maker's side."

Cold seeped through Sera's entire being, leaving goosebumps on her skin, but not the good kind. This wasn't her Shiny. The flat tone, the hollow eyes, the blank face, the words she spoke, the fact that she never even glanced at Sera again, eyes only on the Seeker. She even ignored Bull and Varric.

_Andraste's fuckin' tits, what have I done? Was this me, or whatever happened to her today? Why didn't I let her tell me? She freed the mages, but I still care. I still care, but I made her think I didn't. Fuck._

"Shiny, I—"

"Don't." The single word stopped the words she was going to say dead in her throat. To make things worse, the assassin still didn't look at her. "Don't call me that. I asked you if you truly meant what you said. You told me you did. Consider your wish granted, Red Jenny." Evelyn looked up from the floor to Cassandra's sympathetic gaze. "I'm ready when you are, Cass."

Cassandra nodded and made a gesture for Evelyn to follow her, and Sera watched Evelyn pull herself to her feet, swaying a bit on the spot. She tried to slide the strap of her bag over her shoulder but stumbled, and Sera shot forward on reflex to catch her, but Evelyn shoved her back before she could. "Don't touch me," she snarled, finally looking at the elf with something other than cold indifference. But the look wasn't an improvement. It was the accusing look of someone deeply betrayed.

It was the look that caused the tears to fall. The look that was no longer one of adoration, of acceptance, like she was all that mattered in the world. All Sera could do now was watch the only person to ever look at her like that pick up her whiskey and start to follow Cassandra from the room. Right before she disappeared from her sight, Sera yelled what she had wanted to say all along.

"I didn't mean it!"

Evelyn stopped at the door, but didn't look back, and gave a shrug instead. "Even if that's true, maybe this is for the best. I'm just a noble arse biscuit user, after all. I never cared, remember?"

Then all Sera could hear was the echo of heavy, irregular steps on the wooden planks of the steps down to the tavern.

They were her own words, but that didn't soften the punch to the face they gave her.

"Give us until late morning, then follow," Cassandra said to Varric, who nodded in understanding.

"You got it, Seeker," he said amiably, shooting a concerned look at the elf who crumbled onto the foot of the bed in the room. "We'll probably stay here tonight. Don't want to wear out our welcome up at the castle, coming in and out. And Buttercup needs a drink and a game of cards."

Cassandra started to reply, but stopped herself, instead looking over at Sera with that irritating, pitying look again. "I'll try to calm her down before you meet again. I wish you had listened to me. I'm sorry for both of your hearts right now, truly."

Sera didn't deign to reply, just brushed the tears off her freckled face angrily, glaring holes in the floor. Varric was right. She needed a drink. But she needed her Shiny, too.

* * *

By the time Cassandra caught up with Evelyn downstairs, the rogue had already bought another bottle of liquor and was stashing it in her bag with the other. She pursed her lips in slight disapproval, but after everything that had unfolded for the woman that day, Cassandra was not going to judge her too harshly for her methods of dealing with it; not yet, anyway.

"Can you ride in this state?" she asked Evelyn, who gave her an annoyed scoff.

"I can ride fast asleep," she said in her drunken grace, tripping over a stool as she turned around to look at the warrior. The sight was almost amusing to Cassandra. Almost.

"Right," she said dryly, eyeing the Herald up and down and deciding right then that she would double ride her until they made camp. "You can ride with me tonight. When we make camp, and you get some sleep, you can ride your own mount."

"Noooo," Evelyn whined as she walked sideways towards the door. "I can ride."

The Seeker couldn't help but to stare after her before following. She'd seen Evelyn drunk, but not quite _this_ drunk. She was starting to get the feeling it had more to do with Sera than the assassin's trip into the future. There had been a balance in Evelyn since the elf had joined their party, even before they were actual lovers. Now that the two rogues were at odds, both of them were going to be insufferable, and she couldn't decide who had it worse: Varric and Bull, or herself.

"Evelyn," Cassandra sighed exasperatedly when they were outside by the tie post. "You can't even walk."

"Good thing we're not–hic!–walking, eh?" Evelyn tried to lift her foot to the stirrup to pull herself into the saddle… of someone else's horse.

"That's not even your horse," Cassandra pointed out, hiding her small grin behind her hand.

"Ah, shit," Evelyn cursed, taking a few steps back and looking at the animal with squinty eyes. "Well, fuck me running, you're right."

"This is your horse, right here." Cassandra slapped the flank of her own steed, causing the mare to whinny just a bit.

Evelyn wobbled towards it, her bag weighing her down from her right side, eyes still squinted near shut. "Kinda small, isn't it? I thought he was bigger."

"It's the alcohol," Cassandra said tersely. "Give me your bag, I'll strap it on."

Evelyn blew air out of her lips, effectively making a raspberry noise, laughing. "You'll… pour out my shit, or... summin' like that."

"On my honor, I will not." Cassandra wanted to, but she wouldn't dare do so when Evelyn was in this kind of mood. "If you want to make it back before the others, you will have to move quickly."

Evelyn scoffed, rolling her eyes and nearly falling over again before catching herself on the stranger's horse she'd tried to mount. "Yeah… I want to get as faaaaaaar away as possible from… from—" A strangled noise came out of her throat and Cassandra moved forward to catch her as her knees gave out from under her. "She… she… Cassandra… she ended it. I saw her die, after she told me… she told me she loved me, and then she died, and then I came back and she was alive, and she told me she didn't want to look at me. I fucked up. I'm such a fuck up. Why the FUCK did I free them? Why? I ruined everything. Maker, she was right."

Cassandra didn't know what to say, so she just held the woman while she broke down in her arms, Evelyn's full weight against her armor.

"My father was right," Evelyn sobbed against her, her words slurry and muffled into her breastplate. "I can't do anything right… I should have died in the womb, like he said. I killed my mother, instead. It was me, I got caught inside of her, and they had to cut me out. I was a murderer from my first breath. Ellen is the good one, I should have been the mage… I'm the abomination, not her." Cassandra had to listen really hard to make sense of what the rogue was saying, her words stuttered and drawn out; but she heard that last word that she stumbled over, and it made her blood boil just a bit. What sort of father would tell his children these things about themselves?

"No," the Seeker said forcefully, drawing back to lift the woman's face up to meet her stern gaze. "You are not. You are _human_. You expect too much of yourself because you let others dictate what you should be, myself included." Cassandra felt guilt niggling on the edge of her consciousness. She was so wrapped up in the problems, and the relief that Evelyn seemed to be the answer to them, that she did not stop and think about to the toll it would take on Evelyn, herself.

"Cass. I don't want to live. I can't stop the Elder One. I can–I can close the Breach, maybe, I can–but I can't stop an army of demons. I've never laid eyes on the Empress. All I know is killing. Murder. I'm not a _fucking_ hero. How do I do this? I don't want to!"

"We'll deal with these things as they come, and we will do it together." She held the girl harder, feeling a candle flame in her chest begin to burn hotter with the words. "We will conquer this Elder One. The things you saw today will not come to be anything more than a memory for you. Just do not give up. Do not let this defeat you before you've even begun to fight, Evelyn."

Cassandra helped the woman to her horse and lifted her by the waist onto the saddle; she was thankful when Evelyn did not protest and merely held the edge of it to remain upright as the warrior retrieved the rogue's steed and led him over to tie to her own.

Both women said nothing for a while as they rode, but Evelyn still sniffled a bit every so often from in front of the Seeker in the saddle. But after a fashion, even those stopped and Cassandra wondered if–hoped–she'd fallen asleep. But then the rogue spoke.

"Cass?" Evelyn asked, her voice hoarse and low from the sobbing she'd done. "Can I ask you something?"

"All right," Cassandra allowed, slightly wary of what Evelyn was going to ask her while she was in this state.

"Have you ever been in love?"

Cassandra's eyes widened in the dark, this query was not at all what she expected. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as warm brown eyes filled her vision, a surprised look on Regalyan's face the first time she'd kissed his cheek at the Grand Cathedral when she'd been dubbed Beatrix's Right Hand. Her heart gave a pang of longing to see that handsome mage again, but knowing it would never come to pass.

"Yes," she answered quietly after a moment. "Once. A long time ago."

"What did it feel like?" The questions were so innocent, coming from a woman that had the past that she knew Evelyn to possess, but Cassandra found that she wasn't so surprised that the rogue didn't know.

"Like anything was possible. Like saving a Divine's life was the least of what we could accomplish together. He was a remarkable man, and a worthy lover." Worthy was a soft description for the few nights they'd shared together, but she wouldn't elaborate any further. The man had made her feel full in every way, had been a balm to the young Seeker's loneliness.

"Was?"

Cassandra shut her eyes against the prickling sensation building in them. "He… died at the conclave."

Evelyn didn't reply for a few minutes. "Did he ever break your heart?"

Cassandra sighed, that old feeling of guilt rising inside of her. "No. I broke his."

"Why? If you loved him, why break his heart?"

"I was the Right Hand of the Divine. I traveled and handled her affairs. I was never within reach, and when I was near, we never had more than a few hours together for fear of being found out."

"What do you mean?"

"He was a mage from the Circle. He was one of the mages that helped to save Beatrix in the plot against her. I couldn't have saved her without him. But a Seeker falling in love with a mage? The Seeker that was also the Right Hand? They would have made him Tranquil and stripped me of my rank and imprisoned me."

"So you ended it."

Cassandra cleared her throat of the tight feeling that just appeared with the conversation. "I did. He deserved better than I could give him."

"So you broke both of your hearts?"

A single tear slipped down Cassandra's face as she nodded. "I did, yes."

Evelyn said nothing more, and the two women traveled on in unbroken silence. Cassandra knew why Evelyn was asking the questions. She had answered them to the best of her ability.

But for some reason, she felt like she had failed the young Herald in her honesty.


	13. Chapter 13

**Orzammar**

There were so many people in the market that the place itself seemed a living, breathing mass of meat. The sheer noise and activity was making Kallian jumpy, fighting strong urges to pull her blades free whenever someone accidentally brushed against her or bumped into her. Little stayed close to her, giving her concerned glances every now and then, obviously feeling the distress the elf was suffering as they moved through Orzammar towards the Diamond Quarter.

They'd been out of the Deep Roads for less than an hour, so the three were getting long stares and whispers as they passed, not speaking to anyone. She knew they looked like little more than darkspawn themselves, tattered and patched armor, dried blood and muck all over them, and they probably smelled like the sewer in Denerim. Kallian had no more than spit baths for the past three years, and that was one thing she couldn't wait to change once they reached Bhelen's palace. That blighted dwarf owed her even now for putting that crown on his egotistical skull. The least he could do was offer them quarter.

The Diamond Quarter was nowhere near the same level of populace, so their short trek through its streets was mostly unobserved. She heard a few people gasp as they meandered towards the palace, but she didn't give any glances their way. The doors to the palace were in view, and behind them promised a bath and bed, two things that Kallian needed deep in her soul. She needed to feel like a damn elf again, not like a walking, talking hurlock alpha.

"Ruddy rock heads aren't gonna let us pass," Oghren grunted to Tabris, wiping under his nose with a fist. "I can already tell just by the looks they're givin' us."

"I'm going to raise holy hell in this motherfucker if they don't. I'll start a war with just a few well placed words and carry this whole Maker-damned city with me if I go down," Kallian growled, glowering at the stony faced beards standing sentry on either side.

Little gave a low whine, and Kallian reached over to scratch her behind one of her ears. The dog was as tired as the elf and dwarf, but she knew when her master was serious. That whine was her way of asking Kallian to calm down. She didn't want to fight with the living after years spent fighting the darkspawn.

"State your business," one of the dwarves barked harshly when they drew even and stopped.

Kallian struggled to keep a neutral tone when she answered. "Inform King Bhelen that Kallian Tabris and the Warden Commander of Ferelden request audience."

The other dwarf gave a snort, his blond beard twitching with the noise. "Kallian Tabris and the Warden Commander are dead, it's well known. They went into the Deep Roads years ago."

"Does it look like we don't know that they went into the Deep Roads?" Kallian snapped, rolling her eyes and gesturing sharply between herself and Oghren. "Use your head, or your nose, man. I haven't had a proper bath in three years."

Both dwarves carefully studied the state of the strangers, and eyed Little as well. "Aye, you look… and smell the part, and you have a great beast like the Hero. But you have to understand that we can't just let riffraff into the palace," the one with the darker beard said after a moment's consideration.

"Then have the king come see for himself," Oghren spoke up, reaching a hand up to his head as Kallian had watched him do for the past week. "He knows who we are."

"We'll pass word that you're here, but you'll have to wait outside. No funny business, understand?" the blonde dwarf said roughly, narrowing blue eyes at them both. "And don't let your mutt drool all over the steps."

Little gave a short growl at his words, lowering herself down onto her belly, licking her jowls to mop up any excess saliva that might escape. Kallian couldn't stop her chuckle at the dog's answer.

It seemed like an eternity before the blond dwarf reappeared, another royal guard in tow. "You'll follow this man to have your baths and fresh clothes before meeting with His Majesty," he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the new guard. "And bathe your beast, while you're at it."

"Hear that, Little? Bath time," Kallian said with a mischievous grin at the deep groan from the dog. Little hated baths more than she hated darkspawn. "You'll go first. You smell worse than I do."

Little didn't answer verbally, but pushed her wide flank into her master as she passed her, nearly knocking the elf onto her ass. Kallian giggled. "All that attitude, jeez. Cheer up, it could be worse. It could be that water in the Deep Roads."

"I think I'll skip the bath and have a drink," Oghren said hopefully, blinking at the guard that led them through the doors.

The guard's upper lip pulled back in disgust, dark eyes taking in Oghren's filthy appearance and unkempt beard, but it was Kallian that spoke up.

"Take a damn bath. You can have your drink later. We need to sell this shit for some coin, and then get the hell back to the surface come tomorrow."

Oghren snorted. "You're the one that has something to go back to, lass. Amaranthine will be there when I get there."

Something about his statement bothered Kallian, but she couldn't put her finger on what, exactly. He'd been acting strangely for a while now, more ornery than usual, and less inclined to hear himself called by title. He grunted more in his sleep than he once did, and touched his head a lot. Kallian had heard of these symptoms before, but she didn't think it could actually be the Calling. He hadn't been a Warden long enough to be hearing the Call. The taint hadn't begun to make his flesh rot, or change his eyes. So she didn't understand why he was showing signs of nearing the end of his life.

The hall that the guard led them down was familiar, as was the room he showed Kallian and Little to, being as it was the same one she'd shared with Leliana eleven years before, after her first experience in the Deep Roads. She stood still inside of it after the guard had shut the door and led Oghren away, just staring around and thinking about how it really looked no different, except the bed spread was a different shade of red. The stone tub sat in the far corner with one of the dwarven marvels of engineering sitting over it, the mechanism that allowed water to be heated before it was deposited into the basin. Her heart hurt with the mental image of a red head of hair poking out of it, and the echo of a light giggle sounding in her mind.

Sighing deeply, she looked down at Little, who was sitting beside her feet with her head cocked to the side, asking her master what was wrong. Kallian gave the dog a shrug, a sad look in her eyes. "I just miss her, Little. I hope we will get to see her soon."

Little gave an answering huff of affirmation, and Kallian smiled at the dog's confidence. "I'm glad you think so, girl. Come on, let's get you cleaned up so I can get cleaned up, too."

The king sat in the dinner hall when Kallian emerged from the room a few hours later. She didn't bother wrapping her dark waist-length hair, instead letting it flow down her back after wrestling with a brush for an hour just to get the many tangles out of it to wash. Little was at her side as always, her coat now a shiny light brown with her brindle undercoat rippling through it, her chest and paws white once again. For all the dog's grumble about baths, she pranced proudly once it was over, head held high, and Kallian knew for a fact that she felt better after she was clean.

"Ancestors preserve me, it really _is_ you," King Bhelen said in a surprised tone, rising to his feet when Kallian entered the room. "I'd given you up for dead after a year. Yet here you are." A whine from Little made the king look at her, as well. "And Little. Good to see you're still kicking, old girl. No ale for you, this time." Little gave a happy bark that the king remembered her, and barreled over to him, licking him in the face excitedly, her nubby tail wiggling her entire hind quarters. She and Bhelen had been good friends, so the king merely laughed it off as he patted the dog on the head, and Little's floppy lips pulled back into her trademark smirk.

Kallian chuckled, giving a bow to the king. "King Bhelen, it is a pleasure to see you well. It's a pleasure to see anything other than darkspawn, truthfully."

"Three years," Bhelen said, shaking his head as they took seats close together to converse. "I'm shocked you aren't mad, Warden."

Kallian's eyes slid down to the table cloth. She wasn't ready to admit that she was no longer a Warden, but she was uncomfortable being acknowledged as one. "As am I. There were times…." She let her voice trail off, screams of the oldest living broodmother resounding in her mind, the taste of curdled milk, green with rot, casing her tongue. She felt the burn in her belly, searing through her veins as it boiled the taint from her blood, smelled the scent of her excrement when she digested the foul substance. "I'd rather speak of other things, if you don't mind."

The king gave a single nod. "Your commander opted to have dinner elsewhere, so we can begin at any time you'd like." He swept his hand out over the spread of food before them: roasted nug, apples, several casseroles. Kallian's mouth had watered the moment they'd entered the room, but after thinking about what had happened in the Deep Roads, her appetite had all but fled.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she said with a grateful nod, giving a smile of thanks as the servants began to fill a plate for both herself and the king. "Have you news of the surface?"

The king grimaced. "I do, but none of it is good news. Since you've been gone, a lot has occurred. You're aware of the incident in Kirkwall?"

Kallian's brown furrowed as she tried to remember the last thing she'd heard before she'd gone to ground. "There was unrest among the Circle of Magi, right? After the qunari attacked the city? Something about a power mad templar named… Meredith? Maybe?"

The king gave a nod, picking up the leg of the nug placed upon his own golden platter, tearing into it. He chewed for a moment and swallowed. "An apostate blew up their Chantry. It led to the entire Circle rebelling, and now the rest of the Circles in the south have disbanded. There has been war. The humans' ruler, the Divine, tried to have a meeting to ease the conflict, but someone blasted the entire place off the map. The templars say the mages did it, the mages say the templars did it. I hold that the mages were involved, because one of them tried to assassinate the old woman before all this mess occurred. All anyone knows is that the Divine is dead, as are several of the top most members of the Chantry."

Kallian felt sick. She knew that wherever Justinia was, her wife was not far away. "Justinia is dead?" she whispered, her head reeling and her stomach rolling. "Who else died? Did Leliana…?"

Bhelen waved a dismissive hand. "No, no. Your woman is alive and well. She and that other woman, Pentaghast or whatever, have declared an Inquisition in opposition to what remains of their Chantry. "

The Hands of the Divine are opposing the Chantry? Kallian was more confused than she'd been in her entire life. A nudge of a cold, wet nose on her hand reminded her that Little was waiting for dinner, too, and she thoughtlessly handed off her meat to her dog. "In opposition? So there's not a Divine? No one replaced Justinia? How long has it been since this came about?"

"That conclave blew to bits about three months ago, maybe a little longer. But there was a survivor, see. A woman fell out of a giant hole in the sky with some glowing thing on her hand, and they say Andraste herself sent her."

Kallian sat back in her chair, staring at Bhelen as the dwarf stuffed his face, bits of meat flicking out of his mouth and becoming caught in his beard. "A giant hole in the sky? Glowing things? Your Majesty, I mean no disrespect, but have you been drinking?"

"Of course I have," he answered, half offended she even had to ask; everyone knew any self-respecting dwarf had his first ale with breakfast. "But that isn't the ale speaking. This is from traders. The Herald of Andraste, they call her. And that Inquisition that your bard has started is making sure all of Thedas knows it. They call that thing in the sky 'the Breach', and it's a gate between this world and the Fade. I've never seen the sky, I don't know how big it is, but they say this Breach thing can be seen from anywhere in Thedas at any time. The Herald woman is the only one that can close it, they say."

"What the absolute fuck," Kallian mumbled, shaking her head. "I thought killing archdemons was farfetched. This is just crazy."

The king raised his golden goblet full of ale. "I'll drink to that, Warden."

Kallian eyed the goblet in front of her, but didn't drink from it. She wanted to keep a clear head this night, and every one thereafter until she was comfortable with people again. She didn't want to get drunk and have any mishaps with her swords. "You'll forgive me if I pass on the ale tonight? I'm not ready for that kind of ride, I think."

"You're safe now. But I understand your misgivings. Is dinner not to your taste?" He gestured at her untouched plate, only missing the meat that she had handed to Little.

She started, realizing that she hadn't taken a single bite while asking her questions of the surface. She picked up her fork and dug into one of the helpings of casserole, eyes rolling back into her skull when the food touched her palate. She'd never tasted anything so wonderful, ever.

 _Well, except maybe Leliana,_ she thought to herself with a grin. She was closer to her wife now than she'd been since the night she'd left the Grand Cathedral. That thought alone made her eat faster, as if she'd be next to her when the meal was done. Bhelen looked on with an amused twinkle in his eye.

"Well, now," he chuckled, taking another sip from his cup. "I see I was sorely mistaken. I would guess this is better than deep mushrooms, eh?"

"You have no idea," Kallian said around a mouthful of bread, chewing quickly. "Nugs with no seasoning are rather tough and stringy, and deepstalkers have no meat on their bones. Mushrooms taste like dirt. I wouldn't cry if I never saw another in my life."

"You've lost quite a bit of your color since last we met. You're much paler than you were. What is it that you surfacers call it? Tanned? Sun kissed? Something like that."

Kallian laughed around another mouthful. "Both," she answered, bouncing her eyebrows. "It will come back when I return to the surface. Something in the Tabris blood makes it so that we're dark skinned."

Dinner went on with Bhelen getting drunker and drunker by the minute, until he was making passes at Kallian with a lewd look in his greedy eyes. That was when she decided it was time to excuse herself. "I should retire to my quarters, Your Grace. I must be off for the surface early tomorrow. Might you know where the Warden Commander decided to spend his evening? Did he leave a message for me?"

Bhelen snorted, his cheeks above his blond beard a rosy red, his eyes glossy. "That tavern down by the entrance to the city, Tapster's. The servers there seem to have loose skirts, and I would place bets that your friend has a hand up one of them by now. Best just leave that man alone until morning, and hope he doesn't end up face down somewhere in Dust Town."

"You're probably right. Come on, Little, let's go to bed. Thank you, Your Majesty, for the hospitality."

He waved away her gratitude. "I don't forget, Warden Tabris. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. Rest well."

Kallian gave him a bow and turned to leave the dining hall with her dog close on her heels. Her belly was full to bursting, and she found herself exhausted. She had briefly entertained the notion to go and track down Oghren, but she decided he truly was best left alone on his first night back in civilization. She didn't envy the poor dwarf he had underneath him right now, that was for sure.

Again, like so often, her thoughts returned to Leliana. That certain gleam she would get in her eye as she'd bite her bottom lip and beckon Kallian to come to her. A shiver went down Kallian's spine, settling in her loosely tied drawstring pants. It'd been so _long_ , so _fucking_ long. But she could remember everything as if it had only been the night before. The curves of her body, every scar, every sound she made, the way she tasted, her weight in Kallian's arms. How soft her hair and skin was, the position of every freckle on her pale face, the way the light played in her ice blue eyes. Kallian thought about it every day, so she never forgot why she was fighting to live.

Little nudged her before they made it back to their room, likely smelling the change in Kallian's mood. She blew air out of her lips when her master looked down at her, and Kallian gave her sad smile.

"I know, Little, I know. I can't help it. I wish you could understand what it's like to have half of yourself be another person. Dogs don't work that way, though. I think you lot are lucky in that regard." She paused, and then chuckled at herself. "Actually, I don't know. I rather like Leliana, don't you?"

Little gave a gruff sound of agreement, a slight nod of her head. She gave a hop to show her excitement to see the woman again.

"I'm sure she's missed you, too, darling girl. You're our daughter, after all. Her words, not mine."

Little gave a short bark, wagging her nub.

"We'll get some sleep, and then go retrieve Oghren out of whatever ditch he ends up in. The surface is so close, Little. Are you nervous to see the sun again?"

A head shake and a growl in the negative.

"You're not afraid of anything, huh? Lucky. I'm scared my eyes may hurt when we're back. I'm so used to darkness now. The sun is a light that I'm sure will blind us, you know?"

Another growl in the negative.

"You're more optimistic about this than I am, old friend." She stopped in front of her door and pushed it open for Little to enter ahead of her. She watched as the dog took off for the bed, but then skidded to a halt right before she leapt onto it, looking back over her shoulder for permission, one front paw up in the air. Kallian giggled at her. "Go ahead. You've had a bath, I don't mind sharing. You deserve it as much as I do."

Little stretched her front legs by bowing low, then jumped right up into the large bed. She made a circle, pawing at the blanket until she'd pulled it down, then nosed her way underneath it. Kallian kicked her slippers off and joined the dog, leaving every candle lit.

_Fuck the dark. I'm done with it._

Lying on a mattress after years on the ground was an alien feeling. It was so soft it felt like she was trying to recline on air, despite the stone foundation beneath the cushion of feathers. She felt the shift of the mattress as Little moved closer to her and curled up against her side, her gigantic head coming to rest on the pillow beside her. Kallian smiled at her best friend and rolled over to throw an arm around the dog, snuggling close.

"We're almost home, Little," she yawned, and the dog gave a heavy sigh, as if to tell her to shut up. "Okay, fine. Good night, you overgrown mutt."

She didn't receive a reply, but five minutes later the dog started to give deep snores. Kallian gave her own sigh and snuggled closer to her for warmth.

_Almost home._

* * *

**Jader, Random Whorehouse**

"You have to give her a chance to make friends of her own, Hawke," Isabela was saying to her as they finished up a dinner of ram and potatoes. "I know you mean well, but sometimes doing nothing is the right thing to do."

 _Listen to her, giving_ me _advice on what to do. Maker, how hilarious. Bela, of all people._

Hawke grunted, mopping up some juice from her meat with her bread. Merrill and the kids had just left for their rooms at the inn near the market. Merrill had given her news she didn't want to hear, but with how their conversation that morning had ended, Hawke felt like she was in a corner. She didn't like feeling cornered.

"She doesn't know where the hell this elf even came from. You don't think it's just a tad _convenient_ that she's joining the Inquisition?"

"I think that _everyone_ is joining the fucking Inquisition. It isn't some small time mercenary group, love. It's gaining a lot of support, and not just from random Dalish mages." Isabela rocked her chair back onto the back legs, balancing on just the two as she pointed out what she considered the obvious. A wide grin crossed her face. "Rumor has it that even the _Champion of Kirkwall_ is even considering joining up. Can you believe it?"

Hawke rolled her eyes, chewing and swallowing the last of her food. "Do shut up, Bela. You know I hate that fucking name. I'd rather you call me _Marian_."

Isabela's wide grin grew wicked, and she tossed Hawke a wink. "Oh, but I _do_ call you 'Marian', especially when I'm about to come."

"Only when we're making love, not when we're fucking," Hawke pointed out, garnering her revenge by using the term "making love", one for which Isabela held a personal distaste. She glanced up just in time to see Isabela give her a light scowl, then shoot a look over at the blonde whore passed out in the bed just to their right.

"If I ever heard someone else call you by name like that, I'd slit their throat," the pirate said warningly, just in case the whore were listening to their conversation.

"Only other person that does is Bethany, you know that," Hawke said dismissively, also shooting a quick eye over to the naked woman asleep on top of the blankets.

She'd not had her way with this one, but Isabela had worn her out thoroughly before Hawke had arrived from the post master's office; to be honest, she wasn't at all to Hawke's taste. She would have preferred a man to this scrawny blonde. She liked dark skin and meat with which to grab, a cushion for her own skeletal build. In short, she much preferred Isabela to any woman they ever shared. Isabela possessed thick thighs and large breasts, a nice round rump that was lush for sinking her teeth–and fingers–into. She surveyed the subject of her thoughts sitting across from her, unconsciously licking her lips. Her eyes lingered on the nice hint of cleavage that Isabela's top offered.

Hawke reached across the table and took the rum bottle from her lover, who watched with a bit of interest. They'd known each other for so long that it was obvious to Isabela what was on Hawke's mind now, regardless of Merrill's request that Hawke accompany her to meet with this Dalish mage she had knocked over in the market earlier that day. And Hawke did naught to correct her.

Another glance from Hawke at the bed had Isabela moving to wake the girl asleep on it.

"We're done here, you can go," she said loudly, roughly shaking the younger woman by the shoulder. "Your tip is by the door, girl."

Hawke sipped on the bottle as the hired sex woke up and gathered her clothes, disoriented and obviously still fucked out of her mind. Her bleary eyes cleared right up when they looked around the room and fell onto Hawke seated at the table. Hawke had to fight the urge to roll her eyes at the look on the whore wore, like she'd just found a dessert in front of her pinched little face.

"You're sure, madam?" the girl asked Isabela, eyeing Hawke with nothing less than a hunger.

Hawke gave Isabela an amused look, and the pirate scowled at the girl. "I'm more than sure. We will keep the room, but you'll not touch what is mine, got it?"

The whore blanched, then blushed deeply as she realized the implication that Isabela was heavily throwing at her. "O-of course, madam. It was a pleasure, Captain."

When the girl had hastily made her exit, Hawke silently gave a look to Isabela like, "Well, what now?"

Isabela straddled Hawke's lap, taking the rum from her and taking a long draw. She set the bottle on the table behind her, then ran her fingers through Hawke's messy hair, causing even more disarray than what was natural. Tawny eyes bored down into bright blue, a confident smirk pulling at Isabela's full lips.

"I'd really kill someone if I ever heard them call your first name when you were fucking them, you know that, right?" Isabela purred to her lover, scratching at Hawke's scalp lightly.

"Mmm. I can imagine," Hawke growled back, her hands running down Isabela's back to her thighs, squeezing hard. "You're not the only one that has a possessive streak, babe."

Those fingers tightened in Hawke's hair, then jerked her entire head backwards, exposing her throat. Teeth and a tongue bit and licked their way up the stretch of skin, over her chin, until their mouths clashed together with a bruising force. Hawke gripped the pirate's thighs and pushed herself to her feet, carrying Isabela with her until her knees hit the bed. She dropped Isabela on top of it where the whore had left the blankets rumpled, then reached behind her neck, tugging her tunic over her head and throwing it somewhere behind her before falling onto her hands, bracing over the sexy pirate beneath her.

"You perfect bitch," Hawke said huskily, eyes scanning down her lover's body and back up to her face. "That whore wishes she could equal even a half of how fucking beautiful you are."

Isabela laughed, her head falling back. Hawke didn't hesitate to latch her mouth to the exposed skin offered to her, nipping at the captain's jugular before pulling back as Isabela spoke. "Sweet talker, aren't you?" she said quietly, biting her lip at the look in Hawke's eyes.

"No," Hawke disagreed with a shake of her head. "I'm being honest, Bela. I don't care how many women I sleep with before I'm dead. You will always be the most beautiful."

She reached down to her hip and pulled a dagger free, quickly pulling it up the front of the bodice Isabela wore, cutting the laces with audible snaps as the blade passed through each. Caramel skin spilled out, dark chocolate nipples already hardening with the possessive treatment. Hawke's lips quirked upwards as she watched the pirate's chest move up and down, just like the waves on the sea.

_The sea. Isabela's only love._

The thought killed the mood for Hawke instantly. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, pushing herself up to her feet, turning to look for her discarded shirt. Isabela sat up, confusion written across her face at the sudden change in Hawke.

"Hey, what just happened? We were doing good," she joked halfheartedly, eyebrows knitting together as she watched Hawke pull her shirt back on without looking at her again.

"Yeah," Hawke drawled sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "We were, I guess."

"What did I do?"

_Fell in love with the sea, and not with me._

"Nothing," Hawke answered honestly, finally turning to look at her. It was clear on the pirate's face that her feelings were hurt, and Hawke felt a smidgen guilty. "I just think too much."

Slowly, the confusion cleared on her lover's face, and concern replaced it. "What's wrong, sweetness?" Isabela asked softly, getting up and crossing the room to her. Hawke allowed her to take her hand and lace their fingers together, looking down at the joining of appendages.

"I just… I have a lot on my mind." Hawke evaded the question with a general answer that wasn't exactly a lie, but Isabela shook her head, squeezing the hand she held.

"Don't do that, Hawke. Talk to me. We're partners."

Hawke couldn't stop the derisive snort the term "partners" caused her to make. "Partners," she repeated, shaking her head. "Right. All we'll ever be, no matter how I feel about you."

Isabela predictably pulled her hand back to herself, and Hawke closed her own–now empty–hand until it was a fist.

_And here we go. Three… two… one…_

"Is that what this is about?" Isabela demanded, and Hawke looked up at her sadly.

"Yeah," she whispered. "Yeah, that's what this is about."

"Don't do this. Don't start this conversation," Isabela warned, her tone becoming sharp as steel, her finger pointing at Hawke accusingly.

"You mean the one where I tell you I love you, and you tell me you love the sea?" Hawke shot back bitterly, her chest beginning to ache. "Or the one where I'm never going to be enough for you, so you sleep with anything that throws itself at you? That whore wasn't even attractive, Bela. I don't understand you sometimes."

"You sleep with other people, too!" Isabela pointed out defensively through clenched teeth.

"Not without you!" Hawke yelled, losing her temper completely at the accusation. "Maker forbid I ever did, because you're so fucking worried that someone will come along one day and give me what you refuse to, and I'll be gone! What would you do then, huh?"

Isabela opened her mouth to reply with her face contorted in anger, but Hawke cut her off, throwing a hand up in front of her mouth that the pirate jerked away roughly.

"Don't answer that, because I know exactly what you would do. You'd go on with your life just like now, with your precious fucking ship, your precious fucking sea, and whatever fucking whore that will bow to you. You'd be trying to find what you had with me, but guess what, Captain? It wouldn't happen, because shit like we have doesn't just fucking appear!"

"Is that really what you think of me, Hawke? Is that all you see, after ten years?" Isabela shouted, drawing herself up to her full height for a fight. Hawke didn't miss the way the pirate's hands twitched towards her hips where her own blades usually rested, but they were on a dresser top across the room.

_Oh, she really wants to fight, huh? Maker help me, don't let this come to us beating the shit out of each other. I just want to her to listen for once in her goddamn life!_

Hawke stepped forward until their chests were pressed together and her face was millimeters from the enraged pirate's. "It's all you've _let_ me see. You keep a wall up between us, but expect me to let you in."

Every word, every point she made only boiled her temper that much hotter until all she wanted to was hit something; preferably Isabela, but she didn't do it. She didn't raise a hand against her. "You sleep around, but forbid me to do the same without you involved. You run away from how you fucking feel about me, but the moment I question you about it, you blow up like a fucking keg of _gaatlok_! I'm sick of these double standards, Isabela. I'm sick of being second to everything else in your life, when I put you first before everything but Bethany." She was shaking from head to toe, her adrenaline pumping through her bloodstream, her temper hot like magma. She hated feeling like this, out of control of her own emotions.

"This horseshit is Bethany's fault, for going and bringing up fucking _marriage_ ," Isabela snarled, deflecting the blame, as always.

Hawke's mind snapped at the words, her hands coming up on their own volition.

She shoved Isabela back from her, a wild look coming into her eyes. "Don't you dare fucking turn this around on Beth," Hawke breathed dangerously. That was a line _no one_ crossed, not even Isabela. "It's not her fault that she has a normal, _healthy_ relationship, and we have… whatever the _fuck_ this is. You can't even look me in the eye and tell me you love me, and we've been doing this for ten years."

"You know how I feel about you, Hawke, it's not exactly a fucking secret," Isabela spat venomously, stepping back towards her, unafraid of the Champion, despite the murderous glint in her eyes that the pirate knew all too well. "Even the blighted bards in every tavern in Thedas know how I fucking feel about you! 'The Champion and her Captain', they call us."

_How like her to want to be worshipped by the public. She doesn't give a fuck what is actually between us, but wants a fucking song about some great goddamn romance. I want to choke her right now. If I put my hands on her, I may hurt her… Maker, please give me strength._

"I don't give a damn what they think they know about us!" Hawke grabbed the edge of the table in the room and flipped it upside down with a resounding crash, shit flying in every direction. "I care what _you_ think, Isabela! I care about what is really going on between us, because one of us fucking has to!"

"What do you want me to say, Hawke? What do you want me to do?" Isabela demanded hotly, jabbing her finger into Hawke's chest when she was near again, nose to nose. "Turn around and walk away from the ship and the sea without a backwards glance, following you into the Void without question? Because that's what I'm fucking doing, isn't it? If you think you're joining the Inquisition without me, you're fucking stupid! I'm going with you _because_ I fucking love you!" Isabela picked up a chair and threw it against the far wall, neither of them flinching when splinters flew when it broke with the force of impact.

"Then if we survive, fucking _marry_ me, Isabela! Maker's fucking sagging ball sack, all I want is for you to be my goddamn _wife_!" Hawke shoved the woman backwards again, throwing the overturned table out of her way as she followed her, her kicking feet sending bottles rolling noisily across the floor. "I'm not trying to imprison you!"

"Fine! _Fine_ , you bloody whinging female! I'll fucking marry you so you can be stuck with me for the rest of your _miserable_ life!" Isabela shoved her back, but Hawke didn't budge, and Isabela only ended up pushing herself further backwards, the backs of her knees hitting the bed and causing her to sit down on the edge hard.

"Good!" Hawke yelled loudly, her temper not even allowing her to truly hear what was said. "About fucking time, before we're both dead!"

Isabela reached up and grabbed a fist full of Hawke's shirt, yanked the lanky woman forward to meet her face in a furious kiss, and fell back prone onto the bed as Hawke forcefully pushed her down.

"I _hate_ you sometimes," Isabela griped as Hawke ripped her clothes the rest of the way off.

"I fucking hate you sometimes, too," Hawke growled, temper still in control of her mouth as Isabela peeled her out of her shirt and pants. "You fucking _infuriate_ me, you pirate cunt!"

A knock on their door sounded, with the whore master's voice accompanying, a nervousness in his tone, no doubt aware of who the tenants inside were. "Everything all right in there?"

" **FUCK OFF!"** Both of them screamed at the man in unison, not even pausing in their activities, nor acknowledging their united front against him.

Hawke snatched Isabela's hands off of her body and trapped them above her head with one hand as she shoved inside of her roughly with the other. "You want to be fucked like a whore? I'll fuck you so hard you'll bust wide open!"

"Promises, promises," Isabela bit back with clenched teeth, golden eyes alight with ire, daring Hawke to make good on her words. "I fucking hate you, Marian Hawke, I swear."

Hawke started moving, three fingers curled inside of the woman beneath her, rough thrusts that made every ounce of body fat on Isabela shake with the impacts. She caught a nipple between her teeth, tugging it hard, and it made Isabela cry out in surprise and a little pain.

"Good, the feeling's mutual," Hawke grunted, working her hand faster. "You love how I fuck you, though. You're so wet right now because I'm treating you like you fucking treat me. Fucking bitch, making me fucking fall in love with your crazy ass."

"I didn't– _shit Hawke–_ make you do a goddamn thing. You fuck like a pansy, too."

Hawke growled loudly, pulling out of her and flipping her over onto her belly, pushing her head down against the mattress and holding it there with her fingers twisted tightly into her unruly mane. "Bite the fucking bed and shut the fuck up. I'll show you a pansy."

The only sounds in the room after that was the wet sound of flesh on flesh, Hawke's grunts, Isabela's muttered curses amongst her moans, and the bed's wooden frame groaning under the pressure the two put on it. A hand reached back and grabbed at Hawke's hair as she bent over Isabela, pulling the pale skinned Champion down against her as she came hard beneath her. Hawke bit into her shoulder with as much force as her jaw would allow, breaking the skin, but not pulling back when her mouth filled with blood. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd bitten Isabela that hard.

"Fuck! I love you," Isabela hissed out with the shudders of her orgasm rippling through her harder as Hawke sucked on the fresh wound.

Hawke slowed her thrusts down to nothing, letting go of the bite with an audible pop. "I love you, too," she breathed into Isabela's ear, and she pressed a long kiss to the nape of her neck. "I'm sorry."

"Maker, I'm _not_ ," Isabela laughed weakly as she shivered beneath Hawke's taller frame. "That was bloody fantastic, sweetness."

Hawke gave an exasperated laugh into Isabela's shoulder blade, and shook her head in amazement. "How do we end up like this?" she asked rhetorically, but Isabela answered truthfully.

"Because we're both bloody mental," Isabela sighed, nudging her elbow backwards to signal Hawke to let her up.

Hawke lifted herself off, and hopped over Isabela as she rolled over onto her back, stretching out alongside her. Isabela curled into Hawke's side, nuzzling her face into her neck like so many times before, with Hawke's arms encircling her to hold her close, just like always.

"You told me you love me twice," Hawke observed with a smile. "That puts the grand total up to…" She paused and thought back, then scoffed lightly. "Four times."

Isabela gave the rogue a sharp pinch above her hip. "I show you every day, though, and you never give me that credit."

"True," Hawke murmured, turning her face down to kiss the pirate's forehead. "It's just nice to hear you say it, too." She paused and pursed her lips, thinking hard about whether she wanted to acknowledge what else Isabela had said in their spat, scared of starting another one that might not end as this one had.

But Isabela knew the question caught in Hawke's silence. She pushed herself up onto an elbow, reaching towards Hawke's face to lightly trace the features, eyes flickering across every plane they touched. "Let's see what happens if we survive this," she said softly. "I will say this: if I ever married again, it would be you. It would always be you, _Marian_."

* * *

**Haven**

Evelyn felt her head fall forward onto her chest, and as soon as her chin made contact, she jerked it right back up. She pushed herself to her feet from where she'd been sitting against the bed, and started pacing again to keep herself awake. Empty bottles were strewn everywhere inside the cabin, and she had to pay attention so that she didn't trip over one again. Cassandra had already forced her to see Solas once for healing when she'd sprained her wrist– _how long?– maybe_ three days ago, when they'd first made it back. She hadn't been happy about it, and had apologized to him for having to see her in such a state. He'd been nothing but kind, and asked her no questions about why she was drunk and refused to sleep. Evelyn was grateful for that.

Cassandra had briefed Leliana, Cullen, and Josephine in her stead while she brooded in her cabin as she said she was going to. Leliana had tried twice to get her to open her door and speak to her, but Evelyn refused to see anyone but Cassandra. The Seeker brought her meals, and stayed so that she made sure Evelyn ate them, after finding two plates untouched the first two days. Cassandra was the one that had informed her when Bull, Varric, and the Red Jenny had returned, watching her face carefully for any sign of emotion.

Evelyn gave her nothing. She kept the howl of misery locked inside of her head at the mention of her former lover's name. She had put conscious effort into not calling her "Sera" or "imp" even in her thoughts, and had forced herself to merely acknowledge the elf's existence as "Red Jenny".

Not that it helped matters.

Not that the _Red Jenny_ helped matters, either.

The moment they'd arrived home, the elf had been banging at her door, demanding her to talk to her, calling her that _fucking_ name. It was like her heart was being shredded every time that pleading tone and the word "Shiny" permeated the wood of the door. Evelyn didn't even give her the satisfaction of an answer. She just covered her ears with her hands, curled up into a ball on the floor as those bastard tears rolled down her face and soaked into her sweat stained tunic she still wore from the night they'd left Redcliffe.

She was so tired. But sleep only brought more misery, and she was full up with it. She didn't have any more room to wish she were dead even harder than she was already praying for it. That was a near constant refrain in her head as she paced the length of the cabin when sleep tried to coax her into nightmares.

_I'm ready, let's get this Breach closed, and then I can sleep. I can sleep, and never have to wake up back into this bullshit._

As ready as she was to close the Breach, the mages were not. They trickled into Haven slowly, and from what little she'd garnered from Cassandra's reports when she visited, the ones that had arrived were far removed from the sort of power they needed. Cassandra also stated that Josephine was having trouble locating the required amount of lyrium to boost their abilities. But the Seeker had more grievance than missing lyrium.

"They're pampered, used to life in a Circle," Cassandra had complained to her while the Seeker watched her eat the day before. "I just don't know who told them _I_ am the one with which to voice their issues."

"I'm sorry," Evelyn had whispered, looking down into a bowl of stew. "I brought them here, and am too weak to take my own responsibilities." Another thing that she'd done, fucking ruined Cassandra's life with whiny mages tugging at her armor like children.

"What?" Cassandra had asked, confused. Then it hit her. "I did sound like I was blaming you, didn't I? No, I'm sorry. I'm _proud_ of you, Evelyn."

Evelyn had looked up at the warrior like she'd lost her mind. "Maker, why?"

"You had a difficult decision. You were in a difficult place. But you made the decision, nonetheless. For that, I think you did well."

Evelyn covered her eyes now, feeling the tears rise in them again. Cassandra's words had echoed in her mind since she'd said them, but Evelyn fought with herself on the positivity they held, telling herself that she didn't deserve them.

A knock sounded off her door, making her look over at it apprehensively. She didn't call out for identification, but she didn't have to. Cassandra's voice came through clearly.

"I've brought your dinner," she said, and Evelyn moved for the door.

She flipped up the latch that kept it locked, and stood back as Cassandra entered. The warrior gave a pointed glare over her shoulder at someone outside, but Evelyn didn't dare peek to see who was on receiving end. She locked the door behind the Seeker, following her back into main room and seating herself across from the older woman. Cassandra placed the plate of meat and vegetables in front of her, and Evelyn just stared at it for a minute. She wasn't hungry at all.

"Evelyn," Cassandra said quietly yet firmly, and the rogue forced herself to look up into a concerned cinnamon gaze. _"Talk to her."_

She didn't have to ask who Cassandra meant. She gave a vehement shake of her head and picked up the fork, beginning to eat as fast as she could. The sooner she finished, the sooner Cassandra would let her be. "Pointless," she mumbled around a mouthful of carrots.

Cassandra sighed, reaching a hand up to rub the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes against the pressure that must have taken residence there. "You can't go on like this," the Seeker said exasperatedly. "You haven't slept in nearly a week, you haven't bathed, I have to force you to eat, and Flissa is getting tired of waking up to more bottles missing every morning."

"I'll pay her back," Evelyn insisted, not making eye contact with her friend. An olive skinned hand reached across the table and gently encircled her wrist.

"Everyone is worried about you. And none more than the elf that has literally spent every waking moment outside your door."

"She made it clear what she wanted, Cass," Evelyn deflected firmly, pulling her wrist away from Cassandra's grip. "I'm only delivering."

"That's nonsense and you know it," Cassandra ground out, leaning forward towards Evelyn. "She was scared and upset. You were scared and upset. Things were said that were not meant on _both_ sides."

"No, she meant them," Evelyn disagreed with a single shake of her head. "I was just stupid enough to forget that I am everything she hates, and managed to convince myself I was different in her eyes."

"You _are_ ," Cassandra hissed, shooting a glance at the door. That told Evelyn exactly who the glare had been aimed at when she'd arrived. "She's no better off than you are. Varric told me himself she's not eating or sleeping. She's going through Flissa's stock just as you are. Maker, it's like you and Sera are the same person right now, and the Inquisition cannot abide you both!"

"Please stop saying her name to me," Evelyn said dully; it was not the first time she'd asked this of the warrior.

"I will not." Cassandra gave a sigh, settling back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. "You're both being childish."

"Not wanting to see or speak to someone that reminded me of everything that is wrong with me is not childish. I just want to seal the Breach—"

"—and die, yes, you've made that clear," Cassandra said in annoyed tone. "Tell me, Evelyn, what happens when you seal the Breach and _don't_ die? What are your plans for _living_ after it is done?"

"Ripping out the Elder One's heart for what he did to you, Leliana, and my–her," Evelyn said immediately and fiercely, only stumbling when the words "my imp" had almost fallen from her lips.

"Speaking of Leliana," Cassandra began slowly, studying Evelyn's face carefully. "Why is it that you refuse to see her, as well?"

Evelyn gave a half shrug. "The less people I care for that see me like this, the better."

"Why am I allowed inside, and no one else is?"

Evelyn stopped eating on that question, pondering it for herself. "I don't know. You're just… different."

Cassandra gave dry chuckle, shaking her head at the Herald. "I'm not sure if I should be insulted or flattered, truly."

"Definitely flattered," Evelyn muttered, giving a heavy sigh. "Your opinions and advice mean a lot to me, Cass. I hate that I'm disappointing you, most of all."

"You're only disappointing me by not facing your fears. I was not lying to you when I told you I am proud of you. I just wish you would stop running from your personal issues by focusing too much on the larger ones. You're going to drive yourself mad."

Evelyn barked a harsh laugh. "Haven't I already? All I see when I close my eyes is corpses ridden with red lyrium, and all I feel is a kiss from a dead woman that hates me in this reality."

"She doesn't hate you. Far from it. _You_ are the one that refuses to see this for what it is because you find it easier to block your emotions. We all can see how well it is working for you." Cassandra stood, an odd twist to her lips that Evelyn found shamed her even more than she already was. "I'll see myself out. Think on what I've said to you this evening. You can't keep everyone out forever, Evelyn."

Evelyn got to her feet and went to the door behind Cassandra after the warrior had closed it behind her. She pressed her ear flat against the wood as she locked it, wondering if her– _fuck, the Red Jenny–_ would ask the Seeker anything upon her reappearance outside. She was not disappointed.

"How is she? How's she look? Did she eat?" Questions were being fired off in that familiar Fereldan accent, and it made Evelyn's chest tighten with the sound of her voice. She felt like she had a weight made of iron resting upon her breastbone, pressing her lungs down to flat bags.

 _Who am I kidding? I love that girl. Why does this have to be so hard?_ Evelyn gritted her teeth against the traitorous thoughts. _No. No, this is for the best. You don't know what love is because you aren't capable of loving someone if you're a fucking monster, Trevelyan._

"She's much the same," Cassandra answered Sera wearily. "She looks like hell." _Gee, Cass, thanks._ "And have _you_ eaten?" Cassandra shot the question at Sera accusingly, and Evelyn silently cheered the Seeker on.

_Just because I don't deserve her doesn't mean I don't care… she needs to take care of herself._

"Aye, had a bit of cheese earlier. Had to get back, just in case I missed her again."

Evelyn pursed her lips. So, she was waiting outside the cabin for when Evelyn snuck off to the tavern for another bottle? She glanced over to the shelf, seeing two full bottles of cheap whiskey. _Joke's on her, then. I'm good until tomorrow, at least, if I pace myself._

"That doesn't constitute as a meal, Sera," Cassandra scolded the _Red Jenny_ lightly.

"What's 'constitute' mean?"

The image of that scrunchy face Sera made when she was thinking made the tears well up with that same overwhelming sense of longing again. Evelyn imagined reaching out and pushing her button nose like she so often did while explaining the words the girl did not know. "It means it doesn't count, imp," Evelyn whispered, laying a hand on the rough grained wood between them. The tears slid free, hot against her cool flesh. "It means you need to eat."

_Hypocrite. That's what you are. That's what you called her._

Cassandra didn't even explain the word to her. "Go eat, Sera," she said instead. "And put on a coat if you insist on staying out here. She's stubborn, and I can't get her to talk to you. I've tried."

"That's okay, Cass," Sera replied in a dejected tone. "Got nowhere else to go but here. Don't wanna be anywhere else."

Evelyn couldn't bear to listen any further. She pushed herself away from the door and hurried away from it, sobs beginning to accompany the tears making rivers down her pale cheeks. There was a half empty bottle of whiskey by the fire, and Evelyn dropped to her knees on the hearth, snatching it to herself and taking a long draw.

 _Right here,_ she thought to herself dismally, eyes trained on the floor beside her. _Not even two weeks ago. We made love right here._ Her entire body shook violently with the thoughts, her eyes burning with the effort to make more tears that just weren't there to make. She'd cried them all out, every day since that night in Redcliffe.

Sera's cutting words like razors; ripping, tearing, shredding her heart apart repeatedly with each replay in her mind.

" _Me and you? Not happening, so forget it."_

" _Piss off. I don't wanna look at you anymore, Herald."_

And the things in that future that just wouldn't let her be.

" _I love you… been wishin' I said it lots. Now maybe I can, Shiny."_

Cassandra's sad eyes, deep set in sallow cheeks, red glow within.

" _I'm not long for this world."_

Even Leliana's harsh words to Dorian when he'd tried to question her.

" _You don't want to know what happened. You're only talking to fill silence."_

And the bard's last desperate words to them as Dorian tried to work his magic.

" _Go! You have as much time as I have arrows!"_

Up went the bottle, down went the contents. Another bottle thrown to the side, another howl of rage let loose from her throat as she ripped her eyes around the room to find something to destroy, something to give her an adequate outlet. She started by pulling the bookshelf in the corner down, watching it smash against the floor; then picking up books and ripping them down the spines, throwing halves into the fireplace. The flames brightened as the pages caught, and she stared with heaving breath as the paper curled and turned black.

_Just like anything good that has ever happened to me. It always curls up and turns to ash, as soon as I touch it._

Over and over she tore them, something inside of her finding satisfaction in the destruction, despite how small scale it was in comparison to that of which she was _truly_ capable. She was so caught up in her feelings, in her memories, that she didn't hear the lock on her door give entry to someone. She never noticed the figure rushing towards her in the semi-dark.

Hands gloved in worn brown leather grabbed her by the shoulders from behind and spun her around to face their owner, the motion of it making Evelyn feel nauseous. The first thing she saw were steely blue eyes squinted at her in anger, then she saw the short chin-length curtain of red hair framing a pale freckled face. One of the hands slapped the next book from her clutched fingers.

"Stop this! You are like a spoiled child out of control!" Leliana snapped, shaking her by the grip she had on her shoulders.

_What the ever loving fuck?!_

"Let go of me, woman! How did you get in here?" Evelyn demanded, pulling free of the bard's grasp and stepping back from her with a deep scowl. "I said I didn't want anyone in here but Cassandra."

"We are not in Ostwick, _Lady Trevelyan_ ," Leliana returned acidly, giving her a mocking bow. "I do not follow your whims when they suit your fancy."

Evelyn's lip curled back, her canines glinting in the firelight.

"Do not _ever_ refer to me as such, Leliana! Fuck that piss excuse for a family, and their shitty name." Evelyn turned around and grabbed one of the unopened bottles of whiskey, but a leather clad hand reached around her and snatched it away.

" _Talk_ to me, Evelyn," Leliana insisted unbowed, holding the bottle out of her reach when she tried to swipe it back. "Stop pitying yourself and just talk to me, as you have Cassandra."

"I can't!" _You'll think I'm weak… weaker than you already think I am._

Leliana gave her a frustrated shake of her head. "You can," she pressed her, stepping back with the bottle when Evelyn advanced. "You _won't_."

"I fucked up, Leliana." That overwhelming feeling of failure was starting to crash down around her again, as it had that night she'd cried in Cassandra's arms. She couldn't do that with Leliana, she couldn't show the spymaster, a hero of the Fifth Blight, that weakness. "I freed the mages, and now I've ruined the world."

Leliana gave a disgusted scoff. "Those are not your words. They're the words of someone that is scared, and the fear is rooted in their ignorance of magic. You know as well as I that you did the _right thing_."

She put the bottle on the table beside her, catching Evelyn's arm when the woman reached for it. "There's no reason for your behavior these past few days," the older rogue scolded her. "I understand you're hurt. I understand you're scared for what may come, and that you're shaken by what happened to you."

"No, I'm shaken by what happened to _you_. To you, to Cassandra, and especially to my–the Red Jenny."

Leliana pulled Evelyn to her, holding her hard against her chain mail, not letting go when Evelyn struggled to break free. Her mouth pushed against Evelyn's ear so that she couldn't be ignored. "You _have_ to move past it. We are all alive, we are all here. You have a job to do, whether you want to do it or not. This is your task, Herald."

"I can't!" _A monster, not a hero._

"You can!" Leliana pulled back to look at her in the eyes, taking the assassin's face in both hands to make her keep her stern-but-caring gaze. "You _must_." Gentle thumbs on her cheekbones contradicted the hard lines Leliana was giving her. "Despite how you feel right now, you are _not_ alone."

"I'm not a hero. I'm not Kallian Tabris or Marian Hawke. I'm just a nobody murderer that was in the wrong place at the wrong time." The burning sensation was back in her eyes, compelling tears that wouldn't fall.

"You're right. You're not Kal, and you're not Hawke. But did you ever stop and ask yourself if either of them wanted to be the hero anymore than you do?" Leliana took her left hand and pulled her to the bed, pushing her down on the edge, then sitting next to her without letting go of Evelyn's marked hand. "Kal ran away from her recruiter twice before they ever reached Ostagar. It wasn't until after she'd survived the Joining that she started to even try accepting her fate. And Hawke? Half the tales of her exploits point to the fact that she hated that she had to be the one doing them, no? And when Kirkwall needed her most? She ran away, Evelyn. She's been hiding for nearly four years."

"They both still did things that I am not capable of—"

"False," Leliana disagreed immediately, shaking her head at the words Evelyn was going to say. "No one knows Kallian as I do, and I promise you that she was as clueless and lost as you are. She rode the tide where it took her, and made decisions much the way you do: she chose things that she could sleep with at night, yes? If you had conscripted the mages into the Inquisition, effectually enslaving them beneath a different banner, would you have been able to look your sister in the eyes when you meet again?"

Evelyn didn't give her a verbal answer, just stared down at their joined hands on the bed between them. But the words didn't have to be said. They both knew Leliana was speaking the truth to her, no matter how hard it was to hear it.

"I never knew Hawke personally, but I did know her sister. Bethany saw her sister as a protector and provider, but never once did she give me the impression that Hawke was heroic in any way. I also knew Isabela, although briefly. Anyone that could maintain a relationship with that woman is not the ideal hero that Varric makes her seem to be." Leliana used her other hand to lift Evelyn's chin up, making her look at her face again. "My point is that though history and legends call them heroes, Kal and Hawke are just people like you and I. Kal was a petty thief and an alcoholic before I knew her, and Hawke was much the same, only with a proclivity of promiscuity. They're more like you than you think they are."

Evelyn gave a heavy sigh. She didn't want to admit it, but the things the bard was saying to her was lifting a weight off of her. She felt a flicker of hope somewhere deep inside, but there were still things that stood in the way of it growing.

"You died," she whispered, tightening her grip around Leliana's hand. "You, Cass, Sera. You all gave your lives for us to make it back here."

"Of course we did," Leliana answered promptly with a nod of confirmation. "A few lives in exchange for the world? I always did love a bargain."

Evelyn felt a chuckle in her chest, the first laugh she'd given in days, and when it slowly grew into a guffaw, she couldn't believe her ears. The sound of her laughter was foreign to her, and she found it hard to believe that she was even doing it. A light giggle accompanied it, and she bit her lip when it had simmered down, looking at Leliana gratefully.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Now I just have to figure out where to start."

Leliana gave her a small smile. "Sleep?" she suggested with a shrug. "I find that your head is much clearer when properly rested."

Evelyn gave a dry laugh. "This is going to sound stupid, but… I can't sleep. And it's more to do with having S–someone next to me. I haven't slept alone in so long." Again, she'd almost slipped and said Sera's name.

Leliana stood up next to the bed, shrugging herself out of her cowl and unfastening the cloak to which it was attached. Evelyn watched her in confusion, but did not question her until she unbuckled the fastenings on her chain mail vest. "Leliana, what are you…?"

"Staying with you," she said simply, lying the discarded vestments on a nearby chair. "I know I'm not the one you truly wish to be with you, but surely a body is better than no body, yes?"

"You don't have to do that," Evelyn protested, eyes sliding over to the door where she assumed the elf still sat. She knew that if Leliana did not exit the cabin that Sera would be peeping in the window just to make sure nothing… funny… was going on. She knew it because if the roles were reversed, Evelyn would do the same.

Leliana did not miss much, including the look that Evelyn shot at the door, and the spymaster knew exactly what the assassin was thinking.

"She's not out there. I sent her to eat something, and gave her fresh vellum and charcoal sticks. I am hoping she uses her art for her personal outlet. She had already picked the lock on the door when you went into your tantrum, but I couldn't allow her to come inside. It would only have escalated things."

Evelyn gave her a single nod of agreement, but still did not move to lie down. She stared at the floor, lightly scraping the soles of her boots across the wood in her uncertainty.

"I'm doing this as much for the Inquisition and myself, as I am for you," Leliana admitted as she came to sit beside her on the bed again. She wore a simple tunic and her pants, but shed her gloves and boots. This was as dressed down as Evelyn had ever seen the red head, and it nearly made her blush. "The Inquisition needs its Herald," Leliana went on, reaching down and unlacing the ties on Evelyn's own boots. "I need my friend back," she added as she pulled them off. "And you need to know that despite whatever has happened between you and your lover, that you are still cared for."

Evelyn stared at the older woman, feeling a tightness in her chest that she felt when she looked at Sera. Leliana was truly an incredible person with a heart twice as big as she allowed anyone to know. She found herself wondering again as she had so many times now: _how could Tabris just walk away from someone so precious?_

A piece of herself mourned the fact that she could do nothing to take that particular pain from her friend, and regretted that they were both in a situation that barred them from getting closer on other deeper levels. The bard fascinated her and surprised her constantly, and Evelyn felt ashamed that she had forbidden her to come to her when she'd tried twice to talk to her in this very way.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was the constant imbibing of alcohol for days on end. Maybe it was loneliness. Maybe it was her sorrow for the bard's loss of her wife. Maybe it was the fact that the last kiss she'd received was from a dead woman and it still burned on her flesh. Or maybe it was just impulse.

Whatever it was, Evelyn did it, anyway. She leaned over and kissed Leliana on the lips softly, and was once again surprised by the spymaster when she felt Leliana kiss her back. It was brief, and there was no real heat or intent, but it was the most heartfelt show of gratitude that Evelyn could provide, and the woman's answering press told her it was not unwelcome.

"Come," Leliana whispered when they parted, scooting further up to the top of the bed. She pulled the covers back and slid beneath them, opening her arms for Evelyn to join her.

Evelyn followed, willingly laying her head on Leliana's chest, melting against her when fingers began to comb through her tangled hair. Warmth, a heart beat, a steady rhythm of breath; Evelyn allowed her eyes to slide shut to the musical sounds.

She wasn't Sera. She was far from it. Evelyn wished with everything inside of her that she were the elf.

But Leliana herself was almost just as comforting.

**Author's Note.**

Let's count how many times I used "fuck" in all tenses within this chapter, shall we? As always, I blame Hawke and Isabela. Fun fact, I was drunk as sin when I started writing that scene... so drunk that when I went back the next day and read over it, that I didn't remember writing half of it.

In before "Are Evelyn and Leliana gonna be a thing?"

No. My pairings are set, this was just a... well, you'll see.

The start of the resolution that I refuse to be a kiss and make up... not just yet, anyway.

 


	14. Chapter 14

A blank page stared up at Sera, like so many other blank pages in her life. It was usually exciting to fill the void with something, anything to fill the nothingness. Sera hated nothingness. It was partially why she could never sit still or be idle in anything. She had so much energy and saw so much beauty in living, in experiencing everything life could offer her. It was why she never stayed in one place too long, why she couldn't just settle for the simplicity of a job in a city to tie her down to a single location. She loved the freedom to roam, the freedom to change if she wanted.

But too much change?

She hated that, too.

Like the fact that earlier, when Shiny screamed and threw something so loudly that all of people on the lower terrace turned and stared at the cabin simultaneously. It was second nature for her to pick that lock to break inside and go to her, forgetting everything that had transpired just because something was wrong with Evelyn. All that the archer could think was that she needed to make sure she was okay, that she wasn't hurt.

Then a sharp reminder of where she stood in Shiny's life when Knifey Shivdark, Shadow of Birds appeared; the spymaster had shoved her hands full of vellum and charcoal, ordering her to the tavern to eat a real meal and to keep her distance from Evelyn for now.

She hated the change that it was Leliana that entered the cabin and shut the door behind her, leaving Sera out in the cold, staring at the same friggin' door she'd looked at for days now.

An empty plate now sat to her right, pushed aside in favor of the vellum that Sera now stroked the charcoal against, drawing the only thing that her mind would allow her to see.

Shoulder length dark hair, framing a perfectly lined jaw. A wide mouth, plump bottom lip extended in a sad pout, a crease between thin eyebrows. Sorrowful eyes. A long leather jacket. The strap of a traveling bag over one shoulder. Light smears down defined cheekbones, the tracks of tears falling. And behind the woman in the picture, a fireplace lit with flames that reminded Sera of the days caught inside with the subject of her drawing.

Sera hadn't ever seen that look on Shiny's face before that day, but now it haunted her constantly. It had made her feel like she was going to puke when Evelyn's dust had faded and revealed the woman's face to her. It had been easier to be pissed off and cruel enough to make her hurt when she couldn't see her lover. When the human rogue appeared, it had nearly gutted the elf with how much seeing Evelyn cry made her want to crawl in a hole for the things she was saying to her; whether the assassin deserved it or not. That had been the actual reason Sera couldn't look at the woman after. It was breaking her resolve to make her hurt like Evelyn had hurt her.

And Sera hadn't let herself forget that this was all her fault.

She _still_ didn't know what had happened to Evelyn that day. It royally pissed her off that it seemed she was the only one that _didn't_ know. Everyone else in the Inner Circle knew, Sera had heard the sympathies shared for Evelyn and Dorian. Dorian and his big mage friend had stayed in Haven after they returned, and Dorian was joining up. She hadn't approached the flamboyant moustached man to question him about what happened because _fuck_ that, he was a friggin' _mage_ from _Tevinter_. Cassandra and Varric both swore themselves out, telling her that it wasn't their story to tell. Bull had only ruffled her hair with a sympathetic grimace, and walked away when she'd asked him. He didn't want to get into their business, either.

The elf stopped for a moment and looked at the finished product, her hands covered in black soot from the charcoal. She shook her head at the image, and then wrote in a large, flowing hand beneath the picture, "Not this."

She pulled the picture from the stack of vellum, and started a fresh drawing, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth as she worked from sheer memory… One of her _best_ memories.

A bare shoulder with stray hairs streaked across. A wide mouth with a small, peaceful smile. Long eyelashes resting against the same defined cheekbones. A detailed slender nose, shaded just as the firelight had fallen on it in the real life picture in her head. That dark hair scattered on a pillow. The hollow of a pale throat. The valley between high breasts, also shaded to perfection. Her own hand in the picture, touching the sleeping face just below the chin in a soft caress.

Beneath this, she wrote in the same manner as the first picture. "This."

The longer Sera stared at this one, the more her heart ached. She knew what that feeling was now, had accepted that it was what it was. But now she couldn't even get Shiny to open her door, much less tell her that she was sorry, and she herself was really the arse biscuit.

_Don't even care anymore that she freed the curtain wearers… well, not much, anyway. Not so much that I don't want her back. I need her back._

She placed the charcoal to side, satisfied that she had captured the better memory in great enough detail. She wiped her hands on her leggings, still staring down at the smile Evelyn had worn in her sleep, remembering actually cupping her jaw that night as the elf laid awake beside her. Everything had changed that night. That change was good.

She glanced over at the first picture, feeling her belly sink with that memory. Everything had changed that night, too. That change friggin' blew balls.

She slid the stack of paper away, and folded her arms on the table, leaning her forehead down to them to rest a moment. She had tears in her eyes, and she didn't want anyone to see it. Beardy, Bull, Krem, an elf named Skinner, and Varric were all playing Wicked Grace across the tavern. She'd seen Varric give glances her way every now and again since she'd taken her solitary position with the vellum and charcoal. Sera knew he was worried about her and Shiny, he'd done all he could to keep her spirits up since the night everything ended. It wasn't that Sera didn't appreciate his efforts, she just wanted to be left alone unless it was Evelyn that spoke to her. That was all she could think about, and it was driving her loony.

She'd even prayed about it, in the Chantry. Vivienne had stumbled across her standing in front of a small statue of Andraste, and made a snide remark to her.

"There's nothing worth any value to steal, my dear," the mage had said in her arrogant way, looking down her nose at the elf. "I suggest you run along back to the tavern where you belong."

Sera hadn't responded with words. She gave the woman a nasty look, and spit on the ground at her feet, making the "loyalist" take a step back in disgust. Then the elf stormed out of the Chantry building and marched directly to Shiny's doorstep, where she'd been ever since.

Until Leliana had shooed her away that night. But Sera wasn't stupid enough to argue with _that_ one. She had taken the paper and nearly broken her ankle sliding in the mushy snow melt, running for Flissa's. She'd forced dinner down without tasting any of it, washing it down with ale because drinking whiskey just reminded her of Shiny. She'd had a bottle a few days ago, just because it was the strongest thing Flissa kept behind the bar; but it was no secret that bottles of it were disappearing overnight, after Flissa had locked up and gone to bed. Everyone knew it was Evelyn, sneaking around with her shadow powder and superb lock picking skills that made Sera _slightly_ envious; she could pick some doozies, but Evelyn had shown her up more than once.

"It's a perk of being me," she would say smugly as the fancy locks clicked open. "Deft hands, fine tools."

So now here she was, wondering what was going on in the cabin down the hill. Resting her forehead on her arms was doing her no good: she wanted so badly to curl up with her Shiny, kiss the shite out of her, and pass out together. The assassin was so warm, and soft, and her tits were perfect pillows. Their bodies fit so well, like sculpted clay meant to fit snugly. That was nothing to say of the looks, the whispers, the touches…

Sera groaned loudly at the memory of how easy it was to be with the infuriating human.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ stupid _, STUPID! Bloody daft, I am._

She pulled her head up and gave a look around at the dwindling patrons inside the tavern, knowing that if it was just Bull, Krem, Skinner, and Varric left at the game table, it was getting late. Beardy wasn't a late nighter, he preferred to be up with the sun, Sera knew. That meant it had been long enough for Shadow of Birds to have come and gone, and the elf wanted to take her place back on Shiny's stoop for the night.

Grabbing her drawings, she left the rest of the vellum and the unused charcoal sticks stacked neatly to the side of her table, knowing that no one would mess with it because Flissa wouldn't allow it. She was pulling her bedroll from her bag to carry with her when a voice surprised her from behind.

"Hello," the light and feminine tone said to her, and Sera twirled around with a suspicious look. When Sera didn't reply, the human woman that she recognized as the minstrel that sang by the fireplace held out a hand. "I'm Maryden. I couldn't help but notice you're alone tonight."

"So?" Sera asked with a scowl, shooting a look over to the table where Varric sat. The dwarf looked away quickly, studying the hand of cards he held too hard for Sera to think he'd not been paying attention to her side of the room.

The open smile on the minstrel's face faltered at bit at the archer's harsh tone, but she hitched it back up and pulled her hand back to her when it became apparent that Sera wasn't going to shake it. "I just… thought you looked sad, and would like some company. I've noticed you before, but you're usually… much livelier," she said quietly, eyes scanning up and down the elf's lean form. Then her eyes swept down to the drawings in Sera's hand, and the elf pulled them behind her back, out of sight. "Your name is Sera, right?"

Sera's eyes narrowed into razor slits. "What's it to you? I'm not feelin' chatty."

"Ah," the minstrel said under her breath, averting her eyes with a slight blush. "Then I won't bother you any longer. I just wanted to meet you." She looked back up at Sera, nibbling a bit on her bottom lip. "You're… fascinating."

Sera's face turned red with a mixture of anger and embarrassment, hearing Evelyn say that to her in that very tavern months ago.

" _I'm fascinated, what can I say?"_

"Yeah, well, sucks for you that I'm also taken," she spat now, tucking her bedroll under her arm and pushing past the woman for the door.

"Are you?" The voice carried over to her ears, even though she wasn't meant to hear it. Humans constantly forgot that elves could hear fives times better than they could. "I can't tell, anymore… stupid woman, giving up someone like you."

Sera was in her face before she even thought about what she doing, a finger pointed right between the bard's eyes. "If you ever call her stupid again, it won't be my finger pressin' right here; it'll be _arrows_ ," Sera growled lowly, fury radiating off of her body. She felt massive hands gripping her upper arms, pulling her backwards away from the frightened minstrel.

She shook Bull's hands off of her, giving him a dirty look without saying anything, then giving Maryden one more warning glare that clearly stated she was playing around. "No one talks about Shiny like that, yeah?"

Bull's eye fixed on the minstrel, and the woman shrank back further from the qunari's even stare. "Got a problem with the Boss?" he asked her quietly, and the minstrel shook her head quickly, wide eyed. "Good. Come on, Sera, I'll walk you out."

Once they were outside in the dark, the qunari looked down at the elf, giving her a grin. "Nice reaction time, limber as hell," he murmured appreciatively with a single nod of approval. "I heard what she said. I get why it pissed you off."

"Then why'd you stop me from breaking her face?" Sera pouted hotly, walking towards Shiny's cabin.

"Because there's enough going on without you taking your frustration out on people that don't deserve it. If you'd just slapped her around, that would have been different. But you're angry. And angry people don't stop when they get started. Trust me, I know."

A hand on her shoulder stopped her from walking and she looked up into Bull's sympathetic face. "Look, what happened to the Boss was… rough. It was really rough. But what happened between the two of you, well… I think that was worse, for her. I don't think it will be much longer before she's ready to talk. Just don't give up. Show her you care." He didn't wait for a reply, just turned around and went back to the tavern.

Sera didn't waste anymore time to make it back to her self-appointed post, shivering a bit in the cutting wind that had started to blow. It was all she could do to pray another whiteout storm wouldn't come in, because there was no way she could stay out in it. It wouldn't matter how badly she wanted to.

She settled down against the front of the cabin, giving a heavy sigh that she just couldn't walk inside like she used to. Her head fell back against the door, looking down at the drawings in her hands, chewing her plump bottom lip in thought. Maybe if Shiny saw what she was thinking, she would tell the elf what was on her mind?

_Couldn't frig things up anymore than I've frigged them up, right?_

Sera turned her upper body around, and slid the two sheets of vellum beneath the gap between the door and the floor before she could change her mind.

_Ain't good with words like she is, but I can show her what I feel, reckon._

She pulled the blanket from her bedroll tighter around her, eyes looking around the muddy street in front of her, noticing that all the lights were burning low. It was later than she'd figured. And something else was out of sorts, but she was finding it hard to put her finger on it.

_Wait… there's no footsteps inside Shiny's cabin. Did she finally go to sleep?_

Curiosity burned at her, and she warred internally on whether she could peek into a window without being caught. She just wanted to make sure Shiny was resting, and if she were, maybe _she_ could close her eyes without feeling guilty for it. She shrugged her way out of the blanket and crept around the side of the cabin, keeping low to the ground to avoid being seen as she came up beneath a window that looked directly into the room where the bed sat.

She slowly craned her neck up, quietly dusting some snow off the bottom window pane to see through. The fire had burned down, but there were a few candles still lit, so there was enough light to see a pile of familiar clothes on a chair, the purple cloak giving away the owner of the garments. Sera felt her heart drop into her stomach when she looked at the bed and saw not one, but two occupants, both sound asleep. What took her breath was the way _her_ Shiny's head rested on Knifey Shivdark's chest, and the way the other rogue held Shiny tightly. It looked like they had done it a thousand times before.

Sera's knees gave out from beneath her, and she felt that miserable feeling creep over her again, making her stomach lurch. She found it was hard to breathe, but… it couldn't be more than friendly, could it? They were both still wearing clothes, anyway.

 _Shadow of Birds is married, Andraste's tits. Calm down, calm down, it's not what it looks like… it fuckin' better_ not _be. I don't care how friggin' scary she is, Shiny's_ mine _._

She cradled her head in her hands for a minute to try and steady the spinning that had started, feeling even worse when she reminded herself that she couldn't even be mad about this. She'd ended it. They weren't what they were, no matter how she felt. _Even if they…_ She shook her head violently, refusing to let that thought complete itself. It made her feel worse when she imagined what others would do with Evelyn, no matter what she had said, no matter that she had been the big dummy that ended it. It felt like… something was tearing out of her insides.

 _Ugh. This is stupid,_ she thought as she went back to her blanket. _I don't know why I care this much._ She sniffed hard, wiping her eyes clear of tears that were gathering over her irises. _Andraste's bloomin' knickers..._

* * *

**Jader**

A shaky left hand held a long feathered quill poised over thick vellum, and its owner watched as drops of black ink dripped off it's tip and splashed onto the paper. Ellen had been sitting just like that for the better portion of an hour, while Bethany and Merrill played cards on the other side of the table. Her right hand was twisted through her short mop of dark brown hair, her green-blue eyes trained on the blank sheet. She was trying to write Evelyn, but she hadn't gotten past "Dear Evelyn". This was harder than she thought it would be. It had been eleven years since they were torn apart. She had no idea who her sister had become, or even if this letter would be welcome.

"You cheated!" Merrill's shrill complaint lanced through her concentration, but Bethany's answering cackle smoothed over the irritation the interruption caused.

"You have to be quicker than _that_ ," Bethany teased their friend, and Ellen glanced over at the pair to see Merrill's cheeks blow outwards with a heavy breath.

" _Fenedhis._ That trick Isabela showed me isn't working," Merrill said with an adorable pout.

"That's because I'm dealing. Her trick only works when you can stack the deck," Bethany laughed. Ellen found herself staring at the way her dimples sank with the expression, and her mind wandering away from the letter she planned to write.

 _She's going to be my wife. This intelligent, caring, sweet, powerful,_ beautiful _woman agreed to be my wife._

Suddenly, she knew what to write.

_Dear Evelyn,_

_I'm writing you now, because I know I don't have to send it to Ostwick and risk Father knowing I am sending you correspondence. The Herald of Andraste, eh? Maker, I couldn't believe it when I heard. I know this letter is sudden, and that it will not be postmarked, but please know that I want to see you, and soon would be better than later._

_There's someone in my life I need you to meet. You're going to be a sister-in-law. I'm getting married to an incredible woman named Bethany. We met years ago, in a Circle we both served. Once the Circles disbanded, we left together and have not been apart since. I would like for you to meet before we have the ceremony, because I'd like you to be a part of it as my best friend. It wouldn't be right to place the pieces of my heart together while one major corner piece is missing._

_I don't know where you stand with Father, or any Trevelyans, for that matter. But if you could keep this mum for a while, I'd really appreciate it._

_Maker, how I miss you. I hope that I will see you soon, and that we can discuss this further in person. I love you._

_Your loving sister,_

_El_

When she'd finished the letter, she sat back in her chair and read over it, making sure there were no signs or clues of their location. She assumed that anyone that would read it before Evelyn would assume her to be at Bethany's side, regardless of whether she wrote it or not. Satisfied that Hawke wouldn't be displeased with her words, she lightly blew upon the ink to hurry it to dry, then carefully rolled it up. She didn't dare place a wax seal on it, knowing that it had to pass through her soon-to-be-sister-in-law.

Bethany caught her eyes across the table, giving her a wink and a smile, happy that Ellen seemed to finally find the words to say. "You want to play the next hand? Merrill is dealing, so you'll have to count cards to win. She's practicing stacking the deck." Bethany reached over to push Merrill's shoulder slightly. "She's taking her mind off the pretty elf in the market, right, Merrill?"

Merrill blushed deeply, hiking her shoulders up so that her face was partially hidden by the five cards she held in her hand. "It isn't like that. At least, I don't _think_ it's like that. Could it be like that?" the blood mage asked her friends, eyes sliding back and forth between the healer and storm mage.

"You're blushing pretty hard over there, Merrill," Ellen said with a sly grin, giving a wink back to Beth. "I think she's pretty enough to have caught your eye, at the very least."

"What is it with you and eyes?" Merrill complained, giving a shudder. "Always talking about touching them."

Ellen gave a snort, pouring herself another cup of wine as Bethany and Merrill showed their cards to each other and Bethany won again. "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that I bet you're thinking about her, even now."

"We're talking about her!" Merrill trilled, sitting up in her seat defensively. "Of course I am thinking about her."

Bethany held her cup over to Ellen, silently asking for a refill of her own as the two giggled at Merrill's fluster. "Okay, okay," Ellen relented, raising her cup to her lips. She sipped then gestured at the elf as she lowered it to the table. "What's she look like?"

"Beautiful," Merrill gushed reflexively, then caught herself with another blush, clearing her throat. "She's tanned. Red haired. Eyes like mine. Her vallaslin is representative of Elgar'nan. She seems funny, but I don't know, that could be just me."

"What about her tits, like…?" Ellen moved her hands back and forth over her own breasts, as if there were larger ones in her hands, and Bethany nearly spit a mouthful of wine at her as she tried to hold in her laughter. "Nicely plump like Bethany's? Or huge like Isabela's?"

"Small like yours," Merrill shot across the table, making Ellen laugh hard at the jibe.

"Oh, 'nicely plump', huh?" Bethany challenged Ellen's description of her breast size, and Ellen gave a helpless shrug in her mirth.

"I suppose I could have said, 'Bloody perfect, ivory handfuls with gorgeous rose nips', but that seemed a bit much," Ellen replied smoothly, bouncing her eyebrows at her lover, whose face colored pink at the more detailed–and apt–description.

"You're almost as terrible as Isabela," Merrill murmured as she shuffled the deck for another round.

"No, no, she's not," Bethany sighed with a slight head shake that made her black mane ripple with the movement. "There are just some things about my sister I wish I did not know."

"Like the fact that you both have the same freckle on your left butt cheek?" Ellen crowed, nearly falling out of her chair laughing at the memory of _that_ rum-induced conversation. "Or that you both like when you touch on that certain side of your—"

"Yes, that's _exactly_ what I mean, for Andraste's sake, Ellen," Bethany gasped, reaching over and slapping her on the upper arm hard. "Maybe you _are_ as bad as Isabela."

Ellen took another drink from her cup, the wine making her face warm and her head fuzzy. "No, if I were as bad as Isabela, I'd tell Merrill that you like it when I use a bit of…." Ellen held her hand up and let a small stream of static electricity crackle over her fingertips, and Bethany's face darkened with an infusion of blood to her cheeks.

"Well, you just lost that privilege for a week, Trevelyan," Bethany said coolly, despite her hot face. Ellen blew a raspberry and refilled her cup as Merrill finally started handing out cards.

_Yeah, right. It's our first night in a private room without the crew pressing their ears on doors. I know how you work, Bethany Hawke. You're not fooling me._

"It's only this bad when she's drinking, though," Merrill said helpfully. "Isabela is like that all the time."

"Isabela is always drinking," Bethany deadpanned as she picked up the five cards dealt to her. "I have no hope of winning this. I was too distracted to count."

Ellen looked at her own cards, making sure not to give anything away, even though her own hand was shit. "Hmm. Maybe you should fold while you're ahead, my love. Save some face so I can kiss it later."

Bethany shot her a warning look, but Ellen only gave her an innocent smile, batting her long eyelashes at her. The healer reached to the pile and drew one card, giving another to the discard pile instead. "I think I'll play it, thanks."

Merrill looked back and forth between her friends, an unreadable expression on her face. Ellen knew she'd been working really hard to not show her cards in her eyes, because that was always something that gave the elf away in every deal. It also was telling that the elf had the winning hand, indeed. She'd stacked the cards in her own favor successfully, and Ellen couldn't bluff her way out if she tried. Not that she wanted to, really, because Merrill hardly ever got to win when they played.

Ellen threw her cards down face up. "I'm out."

An uncharacteristically evil grin curled up on Bethany's face, and Ellen knew she'd been played a fool.

_Son of a bitch. Well played, Bethany. Well fucking played._

"Too distracted to count, right," Ellen scoffed, pushing back from the table and flopping down on the bed behind it instead.

"You love me," Bethany said in a sing-song tone as she also displayed her hand, making Merrill sigh deeply when she saw she'd also been outplayed.

"Drat! I thought I had you," Merrill said accusingly, miffed that the trick didn't work, after all.

"Next time use blood magic," Ellen yawned from the bed, using her toes to kick off the flats she was wearing. "If you two are done, or even if you're not, I'd like to sleep before sunrise."

"Hush, you big baby," Beth chided her, reaching to shuffle the deck again, but Merrill shook her head.

"No, she's right. I should try and sleep, too. I have to meet Dora again tomorrow, and the sooner I sleep, the sooner it comes." She stood up and took her staff from where it leaned against the wall with Ellen's and Bethany's. "I'm across the hall, right? Like, directly?"

Bethany nodded, moving back so that Merrill could pass her. "We will see you to break fast, Merrill. Sleep well, don't fret so much on meeting her again."

"I fret more about how Hawke will treat her," Merrill admitted. Ellen had to agree. Hawke wasn't the friendliest with people she didn't know. But it could also be worse.

"At least Bela isn't coming along," Ellen said in a light hearted tone that perked the elf up immediately.

"Yes, that is good. She scares everyone that comes near me," Merrill agreed as she opened their door. "Good night to both of you."

Ellen gave a wave from the bed as the door clicked shut behind the Dalish woman, and watched as Bethany moved to slide the lock into place firmly. She looked over her shoulder at Ellen as she pulled their shared travel bag from the dresser and opened it.

"Are you not going to change before bed?" she asked her, eyeing the tunic and slacks the mage still wore.

Ellen gave a shrug as she watched Beth dig through the contents of the bag. "Didn't really see a point, considering we'll both end up naked, anyway."

"A week, El, I told you," Bethany reminded her, and Ellen made the raspberry noise again.

"Seriously, Beth? It's our first night docked," Ellen whined, throwing herself backwards against the mattress dramatically. "And besides, you said a week for the thing, not for sex in general!"

Bethany gave her look to show her she was not amused as she pulled her night gown from the bag. "You know what I meant. Don't play stupid."

"I was just kidding around, love," Ellen insisted, rolling over the width of the bed and getting to her feet on the side which Bethany stood. "We never go a full week without it unless it's our moon's blood."

"Well, I guess we'll have an extra week this cycle," Bethany answered factually, not giving Ellen an inch. "Please change into a night shirt. That tunic is scratchy, and I don't want you itching me to death all night."

"Nope," Ellen disagreed, shaking her head as she slid her arms around Bethany's waist and propped her chin on her shoulder from behind. "I'm sleeping naked, whether you choose to or not. Gonna have some fun by myself, too, since you don't want to."

Bethany went rigid in her arms with the words, and Ellen grinned like a cat with a bird in its mouth. But then she relaxed, and shrugged the shoulder that Ellen's head wasn't resting on. "Do what you have to do, I suppose," she said indifferently.

Ellen gave a groan as she straightened back up, rolling her eyes at the stubborn streak this woman possessed. It was certainly something that ran in her blood, much like Ellen's own. "You're killing me, you know that, right?" she told Bethany as the healer pulled her robes off her shoulders and let them pool around her ankles. Ellen's eyes couldn't help but to map the snowy plane of her back when it was on display, letting her eyes dip down to the curve of her ass clad in tight smalls.

"You're killing yourself, Trevelyan," Bethany retorted, slowly reaching back to undo the knot of her breast band. "If seeing me naked is so painful, avert your gaze."

"But the pain is bliss," Ellen breathed back, unable to stop her fingers from reaching out and tracing down the line of Bethany's spine, then brushing her hair over one shoulder. Goosebumps prickled across her pale skin, and Ellen automatically leaned down to press a tender kiss between her shoulder blades. Bethany shivered in spite of herself as Ellen's lips carefully made their way up the nape of her neck and to her ear.

"If I promise not touch you there, can I at least kiss you?" she whispered, letting her arms encircle the older woman's waist once more. "Please?" She kissed the patch of skin just below Bethany's ear, loving the sound of Beth's breath catching in her throat with the action. "Just come to bed with me. I swear I won't do anything you tell me not to."

"Like I could ever tell you no and mean it," Bethany sighed, defeated. She turned in Ellen's embrace and looked up at her with a half-lidded gaze that sent chills through the storm mage's entire body. She tucked a small lock of hair behind Ellen's ear, then rose onto her tip toes to catch her mouth with hers.

_Thank the Maker. I thought she was serious. I have to be careful about joking, or she's really going to cut me off one day._

Ellen felt Bethany's hands come up between them, deftly undoing the buttons of the tunic she wore, not even waiting until it was completely undone to slide her hands inside of it. She ran the flat of her palms up and down Ellen's stomach, making the storm mage mewl into their slow kiss. It looked like Bethany was taking charge of this particular time, with the way her hands cupped Ellen's breasts and teased their tips into hard peaks.

"Take this thing off already," Bethany murmured against her lips a moment later, making Ellen grin into their intermittent lip locks. "I hate it. I'm buying you a new one that doesn't feel like straw."

Ellen would have made a remark about the healer taking it off for her, if Beth's hands weren't already tugging at the waist of her slacks. Instead she obeyed, shrugging out of the rough spun cotton just as Bethany managed to get her pants to fall. Bethany pulled back just a bit with a smirk on her face. "Now we're even," she said in almost a purr.

"You just wanted me down to my smalls? Really, Beth?" Ellen gave her a sardonic smile, moving backwards for the bed and tugging her along by the hand.

"Not _all_ I want, but it's a nice start." Bethany swung a leg over Ellen's lap once they were on the bed, looping her arms around the taller woman's neck. "Guess what?"

"You're leaving me for a templar?"

Bethany snorted, rolling her light brown eyes at the joke. "You got it. Right in one," she said sarcastically, twisting her fingers into Ellen's short hair.

"Lucky templar," Ellen teased, leaning forward and kissing along Bethany's soft jaw. "Too bad I was never one, I would have loved playing 'mage and templar' with you in the pits."

"Mmm, you would look good in a suit of armor," Bethany conceded, smiling softly. "But no. Keep guessing."

"You want a mabari pup for Santanalia?"

"Not while we live on a ship, but yes, I'd like to have one, eventually. Guess on."

Ellen smirked, thinking that could be her wedding gift to her wife, once they found a suitable place to live. "You're hopelessly, madly in love with me?"

"Finally, you get it," Bethany chuckled lowly. Then she leaned forward and put her mouth against Ellen's ear to whisper into it. "That's why I brought something for you to fuck me with."

A rush of hot air left Ellen's chest, the rarity of such a word leaving Beth's mouth an absolute aphrodisiac that made her entire body start to pound. Her fingers tightened on Bethany's slightly shifting hips, eyes sliding closed when teeth nibbled at her neck. This woman would be her undoing. Granted, she had created the sexual being Bethany became, being the woman's sole sexual partner in all her twenty-nine summers; it shouldn't have surprised Ellen that she fit her personal tastes like no other woman had ever fit.

_I was in love the moment I saw her, even before all of this ever happened. She's so good. Everything about her is beautiful._

"So I guess this means I can touch, huh?"

"Mmm hmm," Bethany hummed happily, gasping when Ellen leaned forward to slowly and languidly kiss across her chest. "I can't pass up the first night at port, finally having you to myself and not having to bite pillows to keep quiet when you make me want to scream."

"Thank the Maker," Ellen said deviously, rolling Bethany over onto her back and pushing between her thighs so that their centers touched. "I love hearing what I do to you."

Bethany giggled, wrapping her legs around Ellen's slender waist. "Cocky," she accused her, and Ellen gave a single shouldered shrug.

"Not yet," she joked, winking at the healer. "It's still in the bag, have to put it on first, then I can be as 'cocky' as you like."

"Shut up," Bethany laughed, rolling her eyes again. "You're not funny."

"You're laughing," Ellen pointed out, grinding herself into the hollow where their hips met.

Bethany gasped at the sensation, clutching Ellen's back harder. "I'm not laughing _with_ you, I'm laughing _at_ you, silly."

Ellen opened her mouth to reply, but a loud commotion in the hall made her snap her head towards the door, all thoughts of bedding her fiancée flying from her head as a single cry for help registered immediately as Merrill. And it sounded like she was being killed.

* * *

**Haven**

"I have to go now, Shiny," Sera said to Evelyn sadly, letting go of her hands and taking a step backwards closer to where Cassandra waited for the elf, sword in hand.

"No," Evelyn pleaded, taking a step forward, but Leliana's hand on her shoulder stopped her. "Imp, please don't do this."

"Gotta," Sera sighed deeply, pulling her bow off her back. "You have to go back and fix this, yeah? I love you. Been wishin' I said it lots." Another wistful smile. "Maybe now I can, Shiny."

"I love you, too," Evelyn breathed, an oppressing feeling of guilt and longing settling over her.

"Herald!" Dorian's voice broke into their exchange. "You must come closer… if this is a one shot thing, we have to do it now."

Leliana's hand pulled her further back from the imp, further away from her heart as she watched Sera turn around and share a look with Cassandra before the Seeker nodded and they both made their way towards the doors to the throne room.

"Evelyn, you have to stop doing this to yourself," Leliana was saying as they left the room. "These dreams are not real."

"Dreams?" Evelyn asked distractedly, eyes on the closed the door at the end of the hall. "This is real."

"No, it's not," the former spymaster insisted, touching the side of her face. "She's alive, Cassandra's alive, and I'm alive. You just have to come back to us now. Let her go. Come fix this with your Sera."

When Evelyn finally looked at the woman speaking to her, she reeled back in shock that the wrinkled, red lyrium addled face was gone, and Leliana was whole again. She reached a cautious hand up to the red head's jaw, cupping it in wonder that the woman looked so much like when they'd first met. "You're… you're beautiful again," she whispered in disbelief, then felt embarrassed at her choice of phrasing.

"Well, thank you," Leliana giggled softly, biting her lip. "Are you awake, now? Are you back here, with us?"

"Awake?" She let her eyes scan their surroundings, seeing wooden beams above them, and a fireplace to their right. "I… where am I? What happened? I was in Redcliffe and then…." A finger over her lips stopped her words, and she looked from an overturned bookcase to the same face she'd seen, light blue eyes twinkling in gentility.

"You're in Haven, Evelyn, as you have been for six days. I need you to remember this. You're having dreams about things that have passed, but are not real, any longer."

Evelyn stared at her as her mind raced to fill in the blanks of what happened from the moment she and Dorian left that place, until now. And as things began to click into place in her memory, she found she barely felt any better about it. She'd freed the mages, declared the rebels as free to choose their own destinies. But it had taken her imp from her, just as the demons had before. Only….

"Sera's alive," she breathed in relief, feeling lighter. "She just… hates me."

"You're getting closer to what happened, but she doesn't hate you. You were awake and drunk for quite some time, yes? I only convinced you to try to sleep last night. It is past dawn, and I must return to my duties."

"You stayed with me," Evelyn realized, pushing herself up in the bed. "Leliana, I… I don't know how to thank you. I somewhat feel like myself again."

Leliana also sat up, leaning forward and pressing a light kiss to Evelyn's cheek. "You don't have to thank me. Just go take a bath. You smell a bit like cheese." Though she said so with a joking air, Evelyn indeed could smell herself, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"Ugh, you're right. I'll bathe, and then meet everyone in the council chambers. I need to apologize for being a selfish bitch for the past week."

"Everyone deals with grief differently. No one is faulting you for how you've dealt with yours," Leliana replied with a dismissive wave of her hand as she stood and stretched beside the bed. She quietly began to dress herself as Evelyn sat amidst the rumpled bed linens, still slowly coming into reality. "I'll see you when you're ready. I'll send word to Josephine and Cullen that you're ready to meet."

Evelyn gave a slow nod as Leliana pulled her cowl over her hair and moved for the door. She watched the spymaster pause, looking down at the floor, then she bent and lifted two sheets of vellum from in front of the door.

"What's that?" Evelyn yawned, scooting towards the edge of the bed to join her. She halted her movements when a curious smile lit the red head's features and she began to walk back towards her.

"One of the most heartfelt apologies I've ever seen," Leliana said softly, holding them out to Evelyn. "You should talk to her, Evelyn. She cares deeply for you, as you do for her."

Evelyn took the papers from Leliana, feeling her heart move up her esophagus and into her throat when she saw the drawings on each. They were of her, in two extremes: one blissfully happy, and one incomparably distraught. She recognized the situation in the one of her distraught. It was in Sera's room in Redcliffe Castle. Under the sketch of her crying were words.

"Not this," Evelyn read aloud in barely a whisper, tears beginning to gather over her eyes.

She looked at the other, knowing now for the first time that Sera had watched her sleep at least once, and finding that it made her ache with pressure in her chest. The hand in the picture touching her resting face was clearly familiar. There was a single word on this one.

"This." Evelyn swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. "Maker… I don't know what to say." The drawings were beautiful, done with thought and care in every stroke. Evelyn pulled the drawings to her chest, holding them close to her heart. Two single tears slipped down her cheeks.

"Talk to her," Leliana said gently, laying a hand on Evelyn's shoulder. "You owe it to her, and to yourself."

Evelyn nodded. "I'll find her today."

Leliana tinkled a laugh. "You won't have to look far. She's been outside your door for days, so I'm sure she'll still be there."

Evelyn nodded again, mentally kicking herself for not seeing this sooner. Fixing things would be the first big step for her to get her head back where it should be. She followed Leliana to the door, allowing the spymaster to leave before she stepped outside into the sunlight for the first time in days. Her eyes immediately fell onto the slumped form against the front wall of her cabin, onto the stormy grey eyes looking up at her in a mix of suspicion and hopefulness.

"Come in, Sera," she said quietly, holding a hand out to help the elf to her feet. She almost shivered when their skin touched as tingles flooded her palm. "Let's talk."


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, guys. Been a little busy in my world. Thank you guys for the comments and kudos. It's always nice to know people enjoy my madness, especially when it seems at least one person has had a Trevelyan/Sera fic like mine in mind for a while. I hope I continue to please.

**Jader**

A solitary figure sat at a table in the farthest corner from the stairs. It wore a heavy hooded cloak made from woven wool, and its face was tilted downwards into an old book with a crumbling brown cover. A steaming mug of hot tea sat directly to the right of its hand; and by the slow movements a single tanned hand made to raise it beneath the hood, no one would notice the intricate vallaslin adorning it.

Dora sipped her tea, eyes trained onto the page before her, actively tuning out the shemlen and their noisy tavern around her. She could have gone upstairs to her room, but she preferred to have an ear to the door, so to speak, when in the company of this many strangers. The steady hum of voices was almost a blanket of comfort, hiding in open sight, so when it dimmed a bit around her, it jerked her out of her studies and made her give a cursory glance around the large room.

Her spine straightened out when she caught sight of a familiar black mop of hair between two pointed ears meekly pushing through drunkards of all sorts towards the bar. The elf was not making eye contact with anyone, and only squeaking apologies when she accidentally brushed against someone in her path towards the barman. When she realized she might not be a welcome sight for the rather jumpy elf, she raised her book to cover her shadowed features further, shrinking into the corner.

_Creators, she's going to think I am stalking her if she sees me!_

Dora groaned internally, but she could not stop her eyes from trailing after the intriguing pariah, watching as she ordered and paid for a bottle of port. However, she also noticed that her eyes were not the only ones latched onto the adorable woman: three shems with red faces and disturbing smiles were looking at her as well, leaning forward and whispering to each other as the elf turned and made her way back up the stairs.

"Right pretty knife ear, she is," one with a shaggy red beard said to the other two, and both nodded in agreement.

"Like to see how far them tattoos run under that bodice of hers, no lie," another of the three grunted, eyes narrowing greedily as he watched her leave.

Dora felt her ears begin to grow hot, the first sign that she was about to lose her rather infamous temper. But it was the third man's voice that made her snap into her inevitable decision.

"I feel sorry for you boys," the biggest one chuckled. "By the time I'm finished with her, it's going to be like tossing a candlestick through a Chantry sanctuary for both of yous."

They laughed uproariously at the sick joke, and Dora watched the three of them stand and hurry for the stairs just as Merrill disappeared from view at the top. She rose to her feet quickly, stashing her tome in an inner pocket of her robes, her staff in her hand being carefully used as a walking stick as she followed the three shems, face low and her mind already coming up with an escape plan.

_She said she was here with friends, surely these idiots will find a surprise when they see that she's not alone? Or do they room separately? I doubt she would have come down alone if there were someone with her… yes, I'll go up just in case. If we have to kill them, I'll help her make it back to her ship._

Her grip around the shaft of her staff tightened, and her jaw clenched in anger when she came to the foot of the stairs to see the three stooges bent over at the waist and shoving elbows into each other to look through the keyhole of what she assumed to be Merrill's room. She felt her mana stir in her veins, and she called forth the sensation of ice from her very core, feeling her hands become coated in thin frost as she glared up the stairs at the unknowing victims.

She placed a foot on the bottom step to begin her ascent, but that was just the moment that the biggest one stood up straight and slammed his meaty shoulder into the old door, popping it right open. The one with the red beard lost his balance with the sudden shift of weight from his right, and fell backwards into the door across the hall from Merrill, so Dora chose that one to be the first one to be frozen to the spot as she quickened her pace.

There was an earsplitting scream from inside the room as Dora froze the second man, but the bastard went rigid and fell against her, making her stumble backwards towards the lip of the top step. She barely caught herself from taking a fall down them end over end, then used the banister to propel herself back into the hallway, taking care to smash her foot downwards on the second shem's face as she clambered over him to make it inside the room. She smirked with the satisfying sound of his nose crunching under her boot, but it slid right off her face as she turned the corner and saw Merrill sprawled onto her back. That mammoth sized man was on top of her, one of his large hands over her nose and mouth to muffle her cries. His other hand was shoved between them, Merrill's long skirt bunched around her waist, and him fumbling with his belt buckle loudly.

"Get off of her!" Dora screamed, preparing a jagged icicle between her palms to send spiraling into his exposed back. But before she could even finish the spell, several things happened.

Two shem women came stumbling out of the room behind her, one crackling with electricity, and the other nearly coated in flames, both wearing naught but smalls and enraged faces. If the situation had been anything else, it would have been almost comical, but with Merrill struggling beneath the monster pinning her down, it was far from it.

But even with this triple threat mounting behind the piece of halla dung on top of Merrill, not a single one of the mages at the door were prepared for the loud _**POP**_ and _**SPLASH**_ that happened before any of them could attack.

Hot liquid covered Dora's front, and she barely had time to close her eyes before the sticky substance could blind her. The metallic scent was unmistakable, and the two loud gasps behind her were confirming. She dared to open her eyes, and felt her head start to spin when she took in the scene before her now: the massive shem was limp on top of Merrill, whose face was completely obscured by blood, bone fragment, and chunks of what looked to be brain matter. And Dora could see Merrill's face well now, because… well… the shem no longer had a head. The spell in her hands fizzled out, recognition finally clicking in her mind.

_Merrill of the Sabrae clan… the blood mage with the Eluvian. I knew it. Even seeing the scars today, I could scarcely believe… Fenedhis._

His neck was now a bloody stump, and it was spurting out more blood onto the mage trapped beneath its body, the heart not getting the message that the brain was no longer there. Dora was frozen to the spot in a state of shock, not quite believing what she was seeing as the two mages that had appeared in the hall pushed past her and pulled the bloody corpse off Merrill. She could only watch as the one with long black hair kneeled down beside Merrill and wiped away the bone and brain matter from the elf's face, and then pulled her against her chest as Merrill broke down into body shaking sobs.

The one with short dark brown hair pulled the body to the side, then shot a suspicious glare at Dora before moving it to the incapacitated man lying just outside in the hall, still frozen stiff but alive. Her full lips were moving, but Dora could not process any of what the shem was saying to her, only staring at her blankly until the shem reached forward and grabbed her wrist to jerk her into the bedroom.

She watched the short haired shem pull both of the men in the hall into the bedroom, and then turned her gaze onto the long haired shem, seeing her pull Merrill to her feet and grab a blood splattered bag from the bed. The short haired shem came to stand in front of her, shaking her hard while saying things in a fast, low, furious tone, but Dora shook her head slowly to let the woman know she did not understand any of it.

_SLAP!_

A sharp sting on her face knocked her senses back into place, and she touched her cheek, giving the short haired shem a bewildered look. "What the hell was that for?!" Dora demanded hotly, and the shem rolled her bright green-blue eyes at the Dalish woman.

"I'm trying to tell you we have to go! And you have to come, if you don't want to hang for this come dawn!" she growled, spinning around and grabbing the head of one the men Dora had frozen.

The shem placed a hand on either side of his skull and let electricity run through, frying his brain so hard smoke and blood began to pour from each orifice in his head; she threw him to the side and quickly dispatched of the spare in the same manner. "If you're not following us out of that window in thirty seconds, I'm going to have to do this to you, too!" the shem said angrily as she pointed across the hall to the room they'd came from, eyes cutting over to the other shem helping Merrill past them.

"Dora," Merrill sobbed, giving her a pleading look that broke Dora's heart. "I'm sorry–I didn't mean to!"

"I–I have a bag in my r-room. Let me get it, and I'll come," Dora said to Merrill, eyes only on her now. "It's okay, Merrill."

"Go! Thirty seconds, I'm not fucking kidding around," the short haired shem said, giving Dora a shove towards the door. "They'll be up here soon to look around when these fuckers don't come back." The shem paused and looked at the long haired one, a meaningful wrinkle between her thin eyebrows. "Beth, you have to do the thing. We can't leave any trace of evidence."

The long haired one, Beth, looked at the short haired shem sadly, giving a slow nod as she gently passed Merrill over to the short haired shem.

Dora was already back in the hall from her own room three doors away, bag on her shoulder and staff in hand when she smelled the smoke; she remembered the flames encasing Beth when the two mages had burst into the hall.

Beth was burning the place down.

_What the…? Who are these people?_

"There are innocent people here!" Dora said as soon as she burst into the room where the other three mages stood ready at the window to jump. "You can't just light the place on fire and leave them all to die!"

A look of guilt passed over all three faces in front of her, but the short haired one steeled herself and stood taller, raising her chin. "Better them than my family. You're welcome to warn them, but I'm not waiting around on you while you do. If you don't meet us on the ground, you're on your own."

"Please come," Merrill rasped out, wiping her face on her semi-clean skirt. "They'll blame you. They'll kill you."

"I'm right behind you," Dora grated out, furious with the short haired shem for her callous behavior. Then she turned on her heel and ran down the hall, banging a hand against every closed door, screaming one word at the top of her lungs repeatedly.

"FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!"

She ran to the top of the staircase and cupped her hands around her mouth. "FIRE! EVERYONE GET OUT!"

She raced back into the now vacant room with the open window, holding on tightly to her staff as she climbed onto the ledge and pushed herself off without looking to see how high the window was from the ground. She closed her eyes for the impact, but it never came; a gust of wind caught her in midair and allowed her to gently touch the ground beside three huddled forms. She opened her eyes to see the short haired shem give her a curt nod, and she knew that she had been the one to buffer the fall.

"We have to change, Ellen," Beth was hissing to the short haired mage, who nodded again as the four of them hurried down a side alley. "We can't just show up in the brothel with Merrill and Dora covered in blood!"

"I know that," Ellen snapped quietly, taking a quick glance around the alley to make sure it was empty. "You'll have to wipe Merrill down and dress her, she's going into shock." The short haired one, Ellen, turned her eyes onto Dora, who stiffened under the sharp gaze. "You have a change of clothes? I suggest you use them."

Dora huffed, slinging the pack off her shoulder and onto the ground, pulling the bloodied robes over her head and using the cleaner, dry backside of them to quickly wipe her face and hands clear of the blood. "I can't believe this is even happening," she muttered as she threw the bloody robes to the side and dug into her pack for a clean set.

A short laugh came out of Ellen, who was buttoning the snaps of the tunic she'd hastily thrown on while they waited for Dora in the room before. "I used to feel the same way when I first came around. And you haven't even met the meanest and craziest of the family, yet."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because you're doing a terrible job of that right now," Dora bit back, shrugging into the fresh clothing and snapping her bag shut to throw it back on over her shoulder. "You're kind of a dick, so far."

"I'm a fucking sweetheart compared to the two you're about to meet," Ellen chuckled darkly, now helping Bethany wipe Merrill down as she quietly sobbed to herself. "Merrill, are you okay? Did he… hurt you?"

All three of them winced when the question was posed, because asking it aloud made the terror of the situation so much more tangible, even as the sky behind them glowed orange with the flames from the building burning, and the sounds of people yelling echoed down the alleyway.

Merrill shook her head in the dark. "Only a little," she said quietly in a strangled whisper, her eyes sliding closed and fresh tears falling down her face. Dora wanted to shove both of the shems out of the way and gather the girl into her arms, but she knew that it would not be welcome, not now. "His finger…." She made a gesture at the juncture of her thighs as Beth pulled her bloody skirt off her legs. "He touched me. Pushed at me."

Dora felt a cold shudder run through her, followed by a surge of guilt. She had been too late. He'd still hurt her, even if he couldn't get his pants off in time. The thought made her feel sick, and she leaned against the wall when the vertigo hit her head, making her legs weak.

"I'm so sorry, Merrill," Ellen whispered sorrowfully, and Dora had her first glance at Ellen's care for the elf. "I'm sorry we weren't fast enough."

"Come on," Beth whispered, pulling Merrill into clean pants. "Let's get you to Isabela and Marian. They'll know what to do."

"They're going to be so angry with me," Merrill whimpered, lifting her arms so that Ellen could pull a shirt over her head. "I went downstairs alone to get a bottle of wine because I thought it would help me sleep. I shouldn't have gone alone."

"Shh," Beth hushed her comfortingly. "They're not going to be angry with you, love. They're going to be angry that we killed them before they could. You know how Isabela gets about her Kitten, right? They love you."

Merrill gave a jerky nod, getting to her feet when Ellen pulled her upright. Dora could only watch the events unfold, feeling a little like she was intruding. Nevertheless, she did not fancy swinging from a rope for this shit, either. Therefore, she followed the three women when they began to walk again, still wondering what she had gotten herself into.

* * *

Hawke was sleeping deeply, having been worn down to her bones with Isabela's insatiable appetite since their spat a few hours before. After the last round of wrestling, she had passed out square on top of the pirate, the Rivaini's buxom form a perfect mattress and pillow. She was still sleeping with her face nestled into the crook of Isabela's shoulder when someone pounded on their door.

She jerked her face up, wiping away a trail of drool from the corner of her mouth, hearing Isabela mutter a curse from beneath her as the paler woman pushed herself up.

"Someone better be dead, or they're gonna end up that way when I get to this door!" she yelled in a voice thick with sleep.

"Stab them once for me," Isabela grumbled, rolling over and pulling the sheet over her tousled mane of hair as Hawke got out of bed.

"It's us plus one," came Bethany's voice from the other side. "So please put some clothes on before you open the door, Sister."

Hawke paused in her pursuit for the door, looking around the room for her discarded clothes and finding them in a pile next to the overturned table by the bed. "Hold on," she called back to Beth, clumsily pulling her pants on a leg at a time and pulling her shirt on inside out. She tried to button it, but gave up when she couldn't find any buttons, and pulled it closed over her chest instead.

Bethany, Ellen, Merrill, and an elf that Hawke suspected to be the one Merrill met that morning in the market, all piled into the room single file when Hawke opened the door and stood to the side to let them pass. All of them looked like shit, and had a guilty air about them, except Merrill, whose shoulders were hiked up by her ears as she tried to make herself smaller.

"What the fuck is going on? Who the fuck is this?" Hawke asked, seeing remnants of blood on all four of them, mainly on Merrill. "Who the fuck did you kill?"

A look was exchanged between the four, and Hawke suddenly felt shitty for the ill-timed joke. When she saw the look in Merrill's eyes, and the way she nervously chewed at her bottom lip, she got the gist, and immediately bent at the knees in front of the shorter woman to look her in the eyes.

_Fuck… she lost her shit, didn't she?_

"Are you okay, Merrill?" she asked quietly, ignoring the other three for now as emotions swelled inside of her when Merrill shook her head no. If she thought she felt like shit for what had occurred between them that morning, she _really_ felt like an insensitive asshole right then.

"Kitten?" Isabela said groggily, pushing herself up in the bed to look over at them.

Merrill gave a pleading look at Hawke, who knew immediately what she wanted. She stood back and let the elf fly past her and into the bed with Isabela, who instantly caught her in a tight hug. Merrill buried her face in Isabela's neck and started to shake with sobs as the pirate rubbed a hand up and down her back soothingly, murmuring comforts to her. Hawke turned her eyes from them and back to the other three, eyebrows up in her hairline with questions unasked about the situation.

"It's bad, Hawke," Ellen said nervously, swallowing hard, but looking into her eyes steadfastly. "She's hurt… down there."

_Hurt? Down… there? No. No._

Red filled Hawke's vision as Isabela gave a loud gasp-growl from behind her. Before Hawke could even ask anything, Isabela was demanding answers, as well.

"Where. Are. They?" The pirate's tone was cold and flat, deadly to anyone that knew the woman such as the ones in the room knew her.

"Dead," Bethany said in just as flat a tone, looking at Merrill shake in Isabela's arms. "Merrill killed the one that hurt her. Ellen took care of the other two. I took care of the bodies."

"Good," Isabela grunted grudgingly, resuming her stroking of the girl in her embrace. Hawke knew Isabela felt exactly as she did: she wanted their blood for this.

Hawke's eyes fell on to the quiet elf hanging back by the door looking like she was debating on fleeing by the way she shrank against it when she met Hawke's stare. "Who the fuck are you?" Hawke asked again, even though she already knew.

"Dora Lavellan," the elf said quietly, raising soulful green eyes to meet head on with cold blue. "I tried to stop them, but I was too late." That explained why this one looked guilty.

"She froze two of them in the hall," Bethany spoke up, causing Hawke to look back at her younger sister.

"I was working a spell to impale the one on top of her when these two came out of the room across the hall half naked," Dora continued, feeling braver with Bethany's vouch for her. "All three of us were going to blast him a new hole in the ass, but then—"

"Merrill blasted his head off," Ellen finished for her, a grim smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Hence, all the blood. It was… messy."

"I didn't mean to, Hawke," Merrill sobbed from the bed, and Hawke turned around to look at her. "I'm really sorry, it just… he touched me, and–I just swelled up inside and then…."

Hawke's face softened and she sat down on the bottom of the mattress, reaching a hand out and rubbing the elf's ankle gently. "Hey, it's okay, I'm glad you did it. I'm not mad at you, I promise."

_He got off too easy, Merrill. I would have made him feel it for days before I let it end for him. You showed him mercy where Isabela and I would not._

"Proud of you," Isabela murmured in agreement, pressing a kiss to the girl's temple.

Hawke looked back at Ellen. "You took care of the others?" This was something she could count on Trevelyan for, and the mage had proved it repeatedly. Ellen could hold her own in a fight, and protected Bethany and Merrill with a fierceness that comforted Hawke to the point that she actually trusted her to be there for the two when she herself could not. Instances like this one.

Ellen gave a single nod, folding her arms over her chest. "Surges to the brain, both of them. Made sure there was smoke rolling out of their ears before I let go, to make sure the job was done."

_Too quick, again. I'd have shoved their cods down each other's throats first. But thank the Maker the girl has the sense to have ended them at all._

"The building will be a smoking pile of rubble by now," Bethany muttered, not looking at anyone. Hawke felt a pang of regret punch through her gut. She hated that Bethany had to be there at all, with her gentle nature being her best feature. It physically pained the older sibling that her sister had to be so cold sometimes.

_My sweet Bethany… how the world has done you so wrong._

Hawke gave a heavy sigh with the thoughts running through her head, but managed to stay focused on business for the moment. "How many people saw you four come in?"

Ellen shifted uncomfortably, shuffling her flats on the floor. "A few. But they barely glanced at us. Most of them had company to keep them distracted. But even so, it may be safer on the ship."

Hawke turned to Dora once more, her mouth tightening in indecision. She didn't know this woman from the next random elf. She didn't like the thought of bringing her onto the ship, but ultimately it wasn't her choice to make, it was Isabela's. She found herself wondering what the hell the elf was doing at the inn the three girls were staying in, to begin with. But there wasn't time to ask about that, not at the moment. They needed to vacate, and they needed to pull anchor by first light. This really fucked up her plans, and her post, as she didn't know what to do about correspondence from Varric and Stroud. Both men had been instructed to write her in Jader, and both missives were important for her to receive. Unless…

"Ellen," Hawke said slowly, feeling a knot beginning to form in her gut. "Do you think you could keep them safe in hiding for a week?"

"A week? Well, yeah, but… what are you thinking?"

Hawke took a deep breath, not liking the idea at all, being that far from Bethany, Merrill, and Ellen for any extended amount of time. "There's a carriage that makes trips to Redcliffe and back weekly, and it leaves the day after tomorrow to take the trip down. If you could make it to Redcliffe and bunk down, when the repairs are done on the ship and I've handed my business, Isabela and I could meet you all there."

"You want to dock _my_ ship in _Redcliffe?_ That's a bloody tiny harbor, Hawke," Isabela argued, shaking her head. "I'm not sure I could even get it down the river to Lake Calenhad to start. It's narrow and shallow, and if you haven't noticed, I have a rather _big_ boat."

"A big butt, too," Ellen mumbled, earning a sharp elbow to the ribs from Bethany.

_Not the time, Trevelyan. I'll have to laugh at that later._

"Do you have any better ideas?" Hawke said exasperatedly, looking over her shoulder at the pirate and ignoring her sister's lover. "Because I really don't."

"If they stay aboard until we're done, we can pull anchor and figure it out from there. I don't want to be too far if something happens, and I really don't think the _Siren_ will fit in Redcliffe."

Hawke rubbed her face, and then ran a hand through her hair, slightly tugging in her frustration. "All right, all right," she conceded, grimacing with the thought of them being so close to the scene of the crime. She made a gesture at Dora, looking back at Isabela again. "And this one? They'd let her feet swing for this, too."

Isabela looked the elf up and down, sizing her up, honeyed eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You're the one Kitten met this morning?" she asked her roughly, and Dora nodded.

"Please let her stay, Isabela," Merrill said softly from Isabela's lap. "She helped me. She's not a bad person, I promise."

"Of course, Kitten," Isabela purred to Merrill, but her golden brown eyes flashed dangerously at Dora. "She's such a good person that I won't have to tie her feet to rocks and drop her off the starboard side somewhere on the Waking Sea. Right, Dora?"

The elf visibly swallowed, but nodded nonetheless without taking her eyes away from the very serious threat the pirate gave her. "Right," she breathed, and Hawke made a note that she had streak of bravery in her. Not many people could keep that particular gaze when faced with a very potent promise from the pirate.

"I told you I was sweet compared to these two," Ellen sighed to the Dalish girl, giving a shrug.

"That _was_ Bela's sweet side," Hawke said defensively, eyebrows furrowing. "She's letting a complete stranger into our home, after all. That's pretty fucking sweet of her, don't you think?"

Ellen held her hands up in front of her in innocence. "Hey, I didn't say it wasn't. I am still very grateful for the Captain's kindness of pulling my ass out of the fire four years ago. Dora called me a dick earlier, and I was just making a point."

Hawke gave a wolfish grin at that, showing all of her teeth. "Oh, no, Ellen's a pussy cat in comparison to the two of us, Dora. You haven't seen anything, yet."

"That's… that's wonderful," Dora replied weakly, leaning against the door. "Lovely news."

"Get used to it," Isabela said from the bed. "You're stuck with us until we figure out what your deal is."

Dora's face crumpled in confusion, looking from Hawke to the naked pirate that held Merrill so tightly. "Deal? I'm a traveler. I was on my way to Haven, to offer assistance to the Inquisition."

"Well, you're in luck," Hawke drawled sarcastically, rolling her eyes at herself for what she was about to say. "I'm leaning on traveling there to join up, too."

Ellen's face lit up at this bit of news that she was hearing for the first time, and Hawke felt a little guilty that she had not mentioned it to the girl sooner. "Really, Hawke? Are we going?" she asked hopefully, and Hawke didn't have the balls to break the girl's heart by letting her indecision show.

"Most likely. I'm waiting to hear back from a couple friends, then I'm making my decision. But it is a very strong possibility."

She wanted to add, "Of seeing your sister" to the possibility, but bit the words back when she remembered there was an unknown in their midst. She didn't want to lay out Ellen's relationship to the Herald of Andraste for someone they didn't know. It was uncomfortable enough that she was in the room with five infamous names already, and it was a blessing from the Maker that the elf hadn't seemed to piece it together, yet. Even the Dalish knew of the Champion of Kirkwall and her merry band of assholes.

"Let's get to the ship tonight, and get bunkered down. Isabela and I will smooth over what we can in the morning, and I need all of you to pray to whatever gods you believe in that the inn registry was burnt to a crisp in that fire. If you all come up missing…."

Hawke didn't have to finish the sentence. Everyone knew that the city guard would be out for broken necks with nooses in hand.

_With any luck, I'll hear back from Varric and Stroud within this week, and the repairs will be done in double time. I don't want to have to level this place if they come after Beth._

* * *

**Orzammar**

Kallian gave a nudge to the lump of blankets in the middle of the giant stone slab bed with the hilt of her short sword. It gave a loud snort, and then continued on snoring as a ravenous bear growled. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, and gave a glance at Little, who sat on the floor beside her, head titled sideways and ears perked up. She poked it again, a little harder this time, and the snort happened again, only this time it was followed by a slightly feminine giggle.

Kal's eyes grew wide, and she and Little exchanged an incredulous look before Kallian gave one last poke, the hardest one, yet.

"Ohh, Warden Commander, you're already that stiff again?" A woman's voice came out from beneath the blankets before a dark haired female dwarf popped her head out from under the covers with a sleepy smile.

"The fuck?" Kallian said in disbelief. She swore those sounds could only belong to Oghren, but lo and behold, it turned out female dwarves could snore along with the best of them.

"Oh!" The dwarf gasped and tugged the sheet up to cover herself in front of the elf that was looking at her as if she could not believe her eyes. "I'm so sorry, miss! I thought you were the Warden Commander!"

"I almost was," Kallian said wryly, casting her eyes around the room. "But where is he? We need to get moving."

"He was just here; I don't know where he could have gotten off to."

_Oh, I think we both know_ what _he got off to._

Kallian refrained from answering that open-ended innuendo, and instead gave a frustrated sigh. If she didn't find him soon, she was going to kill him when she did. "Well, I'm sorry for waking you up. I'll find him… eventually."

She left the rented room at Tapster's and made her way back to the barman that had pointed her in the direction of the room Oghren had rented the night before. "Okay, so he wasn't there, but his whore was still asleep. Did he leave this morning?"

"Can't say I saw him go," the dwarf replied, scratching her head. "If he went, it was before I came on shift this morning."

"What time did your shift start?"

"Oh, right before you came in."

Kallian gave herself a face palm. None of these dwarves were going to be any help to her. She made a gesture with her hand to Little to follow her and made her way to the exit, thinking hard about what the dwarf had said he was going to do before they left Orzammar. Then she gave herself another face palm when she remembered the bag of artifacts they'd lugged around the Deep Roads on their way back out of them, after Kallian had found the oldest shriek broodmother. He was probably in the market, trying to sell off what he could, or in Dust Town, if he couldn't find a legitimate buyer in the market.

She had walked through the market on her way back to the Commons, and hadn't heard him swearing and bleating threats to buyers. Therefore, instead of taking a right out of Tapster's, she went left, heading for the border of Dust Town. A single whine from Little caught her attention and she looked over at the great hound, who shook her head at her master and jerked it back towards the entrance to the city.

"You smell him, girl?" Kallian asked, allowing her eyes to linger on the dwarven guards at the mouth of the Hall of Paragons.

A slight woof and Little beginning to trot that direction answered Kallian's questions, and she wordlessly began to follow the mabari out of the city.

"This doesn't make any sense," Kallian muttered to the dog as they began the ascent to the surface. "We had a plan. He was to see me to Haven, and then go on to Amaranthine. Why would he just leave us?"

Little gave a low whine, followed by a short growl. She was worried about Oghren. But so was Kallian. The former Warden had never had reason to question one of her oldest friend's motives, but he had been acting so strange lately that she couldn't believe she didn't see this coming. That comment he'd made about Amaranthine being there when he got there had niggled at her thoughts, and now she saw why he'd said it.

Oghren didn't plan to go back to Amaranthine. He hadn't wanted a lecture from Kallian on it, so he didn't tell her, and tried to slip out before she'd risen from bed that morning. He had not taken into account the nose on Little, however.

_**Sunlight.** _

The first burst of it made Kallian gasp aloud and throw an arm over her face to block its assault on her sensitive retinas. It sent a pain through her skull and made her grind her teeth together to keep from crying out from the sharp stab that traveled through. "Bloody fuckin' hell, _that_ smarts," she whispered to herself. She felt a familiar weight lean against her side, supporting her smaller frame just in case she fell, and she silently thanked the Maker for her best friend. "I'm okay, Little," she murmured to the dog, but Little didn't move away from her. Instead, she felt the dog kneel, inviting her to ride on her shoulders. "You sure? We don't know how far he's gone."

Little gave a short bark, and Kallian slowly lowered her arm, squinting through the pain to see a happy grin on her dog's face, tongue lolling out of one side lazily. She couldn't stop her reciprocating grin despite the uncomfortable feeling in her eyes, and she swung a leg over the massive mabari's back. She wrapped her arms around the dog's neck and held on firmly to the collar she wore, and closed her eyes briefly when Little took off at a run, sniffing loudly for the unmistakable odor Oghren left wherever he went.

It led them through the stalls outside of Orzammar, and Kallian knew he'd sold the wares here instead of within the city, probably out of mere distaste for anyone inside that he knew from his old life there with Paragon Branka. She had a thought of questioning the merchants operating the places that Little paused to sniff out, but every time she'd opened her mouth, the dog was already moving on to the next spot the dwarf had stood. And the next time Kallian opened her eyes, they were in a patch of woods on the road.

The canopy of leafy trees above them softened the natural light so that the elf didn't have to close them again, and she could look around at the flashes of flora that blurred past as Little ran like a steed down the beaten path.

_He can't have gone far, those stalls don't even open until dawn, and his stumpy ass couldn't have waddled off that fast._

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind, did Little give a victory bark. Kallian squinted ahead to see the red headed bastard weaving from side to side in the middle of the road, a bottle in one hand and a map in the other. She pursed her lips and shook her head at him before she was even in ear shot, but he turned around at Little's bark and stopped walking until his two companions drew level.

"What the bloody fuck, man?" Kallian demanded, sliding off her dog to stand nose to nose with the Warden Commander. "What's gotten into your head?"

"I got somethin' that needs doin'." He was slurring, and his breath smelled like the bottom of a tankard. "Ye can't follow me, lass, better off just goin' back to yer songbird."

Kallian gave him a disgusted look, and then let her eyes cut over to the map he was clutching in his left hand, making a grab for it so quickly that he didn't even bother jerking it back. It was being held upside down, for one, and for two, it was a map of Orlais. "What the hell is in Orlais, Oghren?" she asked him, and he gave a belch before shrugging his shoulders.

"Beats the shit out of me, I'm just goin' where the voices tell me to go, Tabris," he answered a moment later, tapping the side of his head to elaborate on his statement. "Whatever it is, I think it's more'n sissies in masks, cheese, and politics."

Kallian gave him a suspicious look, narrowing her aching eyes at him, crossing her arms over her chest without letting go of the map. "The same 'voices' you were hearing in the Deep Roads for the past month?"

"Aye, the same," he grunted, turning up the bottle of clear alcohol in his fist.

"Why didn't you tell me this shit?"

A look of betrayal shot across his face that made Kallian blink in surprise, but when he followed the look with words, she knew exactly what it was for. "If ye hadn't burned the taint from yer blood, ye'd know what I'm hearin'! But that pretty little bird o' yers… ye want that more'n ye want to do yer duty. Always have." He paused, making a gesture at her by swirling his short, chubby finger around in a circle at her. "That's why _I'm_ the Commander. Not because I earned it. I'm doin' _yer_ dirty work while ye run off to have somethin' I'll never have."

The words were true, painfully true. Kallian didn't even open her mouth to deny them. But they still hurt.

"You're right," she said quietly, looking away from him with a sigh. "I never wanted any of it. I went through hell to fight my way out of it." She scoffed at herself, pulling the map out of her armpit to look at it again, seeing the route marked all the way the far western side of Orlais, a territory known as the Western Approach.

_Leliana… you have to wait just a little longer, my love. I can't let him go alone, not knowing what's waiting for him there._

"I'm going with you," she said, looking back up into his bearded face with a fierce determination. "I owe you that. Because you're right. You're taking my rightful place because I don't want it."

"Ye don't owe me shit, girl," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Shouldn't have said that shit. Ye kept my ass alive in the fire, and gave me purpose. Ain't like I hate being a Warden like ye did."

"Still," Kallian said quietly, shaking her head at his refusal. "I'm coming. We're a fucking team, old man, no matter if I have the taint or not. You're my best friend, other than Little."

"Don't get all mushy. Save that shit for yer bard." He paused, giving her a look out of the corner of his eye as they continued to walk. "But thank ye, for comin'. Wouldn't feel right without the two of ye."

The three friends walked in silence for a few minutes, then Kallian gave the dwarf a nudge in the ribs to get his attention. "I met that whore of yours from last night. Maker, she snores so deep that I swore it was you under that blanket. You sure she had a minge?"

He scratched his head, squinting his eyes in thought. "Not rightly sure, no. But there was a hole. And I gave it the ol' work over." He pumped his hips to make his point.

Their laughter echoed through the forest around them as the made their way west.

* * *

**Haven**

Saying you're going to talk, and actually talking? Two different things. Evelyn had no idea where to start. Judging by the way Sera sat in the chair across the room looking at the floor with her hands clasped together, she didn't either. The two stubborn rogues had been silent for more than a few minutes.

Evelyn had seen the way Sera's eyes mapped the room, the bottles scattered everywhere, the overturned bookcase, and the rumpled bed linens. The elf's eyes had actually lingered on that last bit the longest, and Evelyn swore she heard a slow inhale of breath from the imp as she looked at it.

That. That's where she'd start.

"Nothing happened," Evelyn offered quietly. "I kissed her, but not like how you think I might have. Our… interests… lie with others, Sera."

_My heart belongs to you. Hers belongs to Tabris. I'm yours, my imp._

Sera's face lifted from the floor and her eyes met Evelyn's for the first time since they'd closed the door behind them. "Then why did she stay? Seen you last night. Didn't hear you pacing like before, so I looked in the window. Cuddled up nice and warm, yeah?" There was no real ire in the words, just exhaustion and hurt. The archer gave a small scoff, shaking her head. "Can't even be mad, can I?"

_Yes, because despite your harsh words, I'm still yours. You're allowed to be as jealous as I would be, roles reversed._

Evelyn chose not to acknowledge the last question aloud, lest it stray them from the topic in a negative manner. This had to be done just so, and as honestly as she could make it be.

"She stayed so that I would sleep. Not exactly who I'd have _liked_ to be with me, but I couldn't turn down the comfort. I am sorry if I hurt you by accepting her offer. It was not my intent." Evelyn paused, swallowing a lump that suddenly rose in her throat, and then continued quietly. "This last week has been nothing short of a nightmare for me, asleep or awake. Today is the first time since Alexius put me and Dorian into the future that I've even felt remotely like myself."

Sera's face contorted with severe confusion, and she bristled. "The future?" The elf's entire demeanor changed into one of "what the fuck" all at once.

_Of course. She doesn't know. Great. Goddamn it, Cassandra._

Evelyn gave a single nod, her distaste at reliving it again obvious in her bright green eyes. "No one told you?"

Sera snorted loudly and derisively, sitting back in the chair she'd claimed, crossing her arms over her chest. "No," she said with a slight pout. "No one wanted to get into 'our business'. Even Varric and his big mouth, he wouldn't say anything."

Evelyn scratched her head, uncomfortable with the subject matter, but she knew she had to tell Sera what happened. She did not want to get into full detail, and she knew that Sera could not handle the whole story right now, even if the assassin told it all. She would scare the imp away with the knowledge of what was said between them, and that was the exact opposite of what she was trying to do here. She wanted to fix this thing, have the freedom to pull the girl into her arms as she was burning to do; have the right to kiss her again, the privilege of holding her once more.

She began to pace the small space in front of Sera.

"Let's just say that I've seen what happens if the Elder One has his way with the world, and it isn't a pretty picture," Evelyn said slowly, choosing her words carefully. "Alexius and the Venatori were to help usher in a new sort of god thing. I didn't see it, but I saw its army."

_I saw them kill you._

"Is that what you were fighting? With all the blood?" Sera asked, leaning forward with interest in the tale, elbows resting on her knees.

Evelyn shook her head. "No, that was from guards and mages. And from Alexius. I killed him in that place for what he took from me, for the monstrosities I saw."

"What did he take? What happened?"

_Maker, I was afraid she would ask me that._

Evelyn gave a longing look at the bottle of whiskey that Leliana had taken from her the night before, but she pushed the urge to grab it deep down and took a long, steadying breath instead, stopping her pace. "He took you," she said in barely more than a whisper, not looking at the tempest. "He took you, Cassandra, and Leliana away from me. I watched all of you die right in front of me, and I couldn't do a fucking thing about it." She collapsed into a chair and her oily, tangled mane of hair fell forward and covered her face.

Silent tears slid down her cheeks before she had even felt them gather, and she heard Sera move from the chair across from her, footsteps falling towards her before a tentative hand touched her shoulder. "You all helped me kill him, and then that fucking army of _demons_ came… and you and Cass left me there, met them head on, alone… Leliana gave us cover fire while Dorian worked a spell to get us home. But it was too late because I'd already seen what they'd done to you."

_A marionette, strings cut, limbs askew, head twisted, eyes empty. Red. So. Fucking. Much._ _**Red.** _

She looked up into Sera's face finally, tears still falling, splashing on the stained collar of her tunic. "I never wanted to feel that pain again, imp. I never wanted to see you broken like that again, and almost immediately after—"

"—I was an arse and treated you like shite," Sera finished, her own eyes shining with unshed tears. However, Evelyn shook her head no.

"I should have spoken to you before making that call. I should have warned you that I was going to do it, but I just… I was put on the spot, and the king was there waiting to hear an answer, and I just… did it." Evelyn took a breath and reached up to wipe away her tears. "I'm so sorry I hurt you. You have to believe that. Nevertheless, I am _not_ sorry for giving them a chance, Sera. They deserve that much."

The fingers resting on her shoulder flexed, then Sera let go of her shoulder to cup her jaw instead, her face soft and her eyes earnest. "I shouldn't have acted like I did, Shiny. I mean, I'm not arse over head happy about it, but… I've never had family, you know? I don't know what it's like to give a frig about a sister." She gave a jerky shrug. "Maybe you were right. People are just people… even maybe some mages."

_She's touching my face… Maker, I missed these hands._

"Some are magical pieces of shit, like Alexius," Evelyn allowed, not denying the fact at all. She leaned into the imp's touch, reveling in it. "But some are pieces of shit without the magic aspect, too. That's my whole point."

"Not gonna pretend I think it was right," Sera told her in a slightly warning tone. "But it ain't worth _this._ I like this." She caressed the underside of Evelyn's jaw lightly, a crease forming between her eyebrows. "Didn't really know how much until I made you believe I didn't care. Because I _do_ care. A lot."

Evelyn covered the hand touching her jaw and pulled it away to place a gentle kiss on the elf's knuckles. "I care, too," she whispered affectionately, kissing the girl's hand again. "I care so much, Sera. I'm so sorry."

"Yeah. I'm sorry, too," the elf answered uncomfortably, her face turning red. "Never really said that before, because I'm never really sorry about anything. But what I did, the shite I said, even if it was just words. That wasn't right. No better than your father and that makes me sorry."

Evelyn stood up and held her arms open, and Sera slid into them, tucking her face into the crook of the assassin's neck, her arms around Evelyn like a vice grip. "Words mean things to me," Evelyn admitted in a murmur. "You might as well have been cutting me with my own blades that night, my imp. Just keep that in mind for me? Try not to say things you don't really mean?"

A strangled sort of laugh came from the bend of Evelyn's neck and shoulder, muffled by the elf's mouth pressed against the collar of her tunic. "I'll try whatever you want, so long as you keep callin' me your imp. Blimey, missed that so much. Missed _you_ so much."

Evelyn tilted her face down just enough to place a kiss on top of Sera's head, tightening her arms around the archer just a little more. "I missed you, too. Not planning to let you go again, no matter what that foul mouth of yours says, okay?"

Sera nodded, then pulled her face out of Evelyn's neck long enough to give her a grin. "Next time, we'll spar and the winner is right. Deal?"

Evelyn couldn't help the smile it gave her to hear the confidence come back into Sera's voice. "Deal, but you can't be butt hurt when I always win, imp."

Sera rolled her eyes, pulling out of the embrace and putting her hands on her hips to give Evelyn a playful glare. "Shut up, you cocky arsehole."

Evelyn took a step forward, mischief rolling off the human rogue in waves. "Make me," she challenged the elf, who laughed loudly.

Sera pinched her nose and gave Evelyn a pointed look, gesturing at the dirty clothes she wore. "Maybe after a bath or five, yeah? I like you and everything, but you smell like Orlesian cheese, Shiny. And not the kind I like."

"Maker! You and Leliana both!" Evelyn lifted an arm and took a sniff of her armpit, and nearly keeled over from the stench. "Andraste's tits, I have to go bathe. I have to meet with the council after I'm done, but… would you like to meet me here for dinner later? I'll pay. I owe Flissa a ton of money, actually."

"You mean, like… a proper dinner? Or just like… eating together?"

Evelyn leaned forward and lightly kissed Sera's cheek. "A proper dinner, if you'd like?"

Sera blushed, and Evelyn felt her chest swell with the sight. She had missed that face more than she realized. It helped to make the doubts fade away because she felt invincible with the elf beside her, as if she could do anything as long as she could return to the face in front of her. She knew what Cassandra meant now.

"Yeah, sounds grand," the elf replied with an almost shy tone. "I'll see you then, I guess? Sun down, maybe?"

"Sun down it is," Evelyn agreed with a slight nod, biting her lip to hold back the stupid grin fighting to stretch across her face.

A curious look slowly appeared on the thief's face, eyes narrowing down to slits. "So… you're doing a thing? Like… you know?"

"Courting you?" Evelyn's eyes widened at the realization that it was exactly what she was doing, and it shocked her. She hadn't even thought about it like that, but Sera was right. "Yes, I am," she chuckled airily, shaking her head at herself.

_I've never courted anyone. What the fuck am I setting myself up for?_

Sera started laughing hard, and her arms came up to hold herself around her middle. "Maker's saggy friggin' balls, this is too good. Evelyn Trevelyan _courting_ me! Hahaha!"

Evelyn felt her face grow hot with the elf's mirth ringing in her ears, but she stood her ground regardless, tilting her chin up just a bit as she moved past Sera to find a clean set of clothes in the trunk below the window. "You should feel lucky," Evelyn told her shortly, and gave a shake of her head at the girl when Sera's laughter only doubled. "I've never courted anyone before."

"Never had to, right?" Sera giggled from behind her. "All of them just fall out right out at your pretty little feet, begging to be taken?"

Evelyn shot Sera a glare over her shoulder as she folded a clean pair of pants to carry with her to the baths. "Not exactly. I have only been with two people I did not consider whores, you included. The other one wasn't courting material, seeing as she was betrothed at first, and then wed at the end."

"Oooh," Sera howled, tears of laughter beginning to fall down her face. "Shaggin' married women, Shiny?"

"Just one, and trust me: she wasn't worth it." Evelyn couldn't keep a faint bitterness from seeping into her tone, thinking about the woman. A daughter of a friend of her father's, three summers older than Evelyn herself, and what Evelyn thought was her first and only love; until she came to know the real thing in the very elf standing there laughing at her right now. Maybe it was the thought of the woman left in Ostwick, but Evelyn found herself becoming irritated.

"Look," Evelyn said snappishly, flipping around with her clothes under her arm to face Sera. "Do you want to have dinner or not? We don't have to; it was just an excuse to have some time with you alone. But if it's that fucking hilarious, forget it."

Sera's laughter ceased immediately, and a worried expression tightened her eyes. "No, no, I want to… I just… I've never been courted. I dunno how to take it, I guess."

Evelyn felt herself begin to deflate, and she gave Sera a stiff nod. "I get that, it's okay. I just hate that girl being brought up. It makes me feel like I'll throw up."

"Then it's dropped. Go take a bath; I'll catch up to you later. Gonna go practice throwin'."

Evelyn's eyebrow rose with the information. "You're still throwing?"

Sera gave a shrug and a nod. "Yeah, helped to pass the time when I wasn't sitting outside. Gettin' better at it, too. I'll show you sometime."

Evelyn grinned, proud that the elf had stuck with it, even if they hadn't been talking. "I'd like that. Maybe if the meeting isn't long, I'll join you." She fought the urge to tug the girl to her and kiss the Maker's breath right out of her, but she knew her mouth probably tasted and smelled like a chamber pot.

She was surprised when Sera took the thought right out of her head and darted forward, pecking her lips quickly before backing up towards the door with a pink tinge to her cheeks. "Later, Shiny," she said with a wave, and left the cabin.

* * *

"Evelyn! Thank the Maker!" An Antivan accent brushed upon her ears as she entered the council chambers a few hours later, clean and properly dressed for the first time in nearly two weeks. Josephine pulled her to herself, placing chaste kisses on each of the assassin's cheeks before releasing her and taking a step back to look her up and down, grey eyes squinted critically. "You've lost weight. But you look well enough. We're so glad to have you back."

"Give her some room to breathe, Josie," Leliana said from the other side of the war table in an amused tone. "Though I agree, you much better than how I left you this morning."

"Or I, last night," Cassandra said with a nod and a small, knowing smile. "I take it you finally talked to her?"

Evelyn blushed, dipping her head forward in a positive gesture, but did not elaborate on the things that were said between her and her elven lover. "Cullen, I trust all is well?" she said instead, giving a salute to the man in his armor across from her.

He gave a salute back. "If we could procure this shipment of lyrium Josephine is chasing, all would be more than well. We have the power to back you, now we just need the lyrium to back _them_."

Evelyn gave a look over to Josephine, curiosity in her eyes. "What has prolonged the shipment?"

"Bandits, Your Grace," Josephine sighed back heavily, her shoulders drooping just a bit as she scribbled on her ever-present writing board. "Two separate shipments, both taken before they're out of sight of Denerim."

Evelyn gave a shrug. "Send a guard. Soldiers, maybe… or even better, have Bull send his Chargers."

The four other people in the room looked at each other, slightly embarrassed.

"Why on earth did we not think about the Chargers?" Cullen muttered, shaking his head. "Of course. I'll speak with Iron Bull once we adjourn. Thank you, Evelyn, for pointing out the obvious that we failed to see."

"It isn't that I didn't see it," Leliana defended herself. "I just thought that maybe Haven would be better served by protection, instead of sending its most skilled defenders into the field, no? How are we to know this Elder One won't attack? The silence my scouts have reported is unsettling, at best."

"Silence?" Evelyn asked for an elaboration that Leliana gave a nod to before she went on.

"All reports of activity near Redcliffe have come to a halt. It is almost as if Tevinter had never touched their harbor. Traffic in and around the Hinterlands has all but gone bare, and the only reports of activity I am getting is unrest in a place called Crestwood to the east. But none of it matches description of the things we've seen from this Elder One or his Venatori."

"So, we threw a log into his mill by taking Alexius into our custody," Evelyn stated flatly, a smirk pulling at her lips.

"So it seems," Leliana agreed with a nod. "I have sent word to pull my scouts back and I plan to redistribute my resources once we've sealed the breach."

"Any word or sign of the templars?" Evelyn asked Cullen and Cassandra, both of whom shook their heads in the negative.

"Dark on that front, too, Herald," Cassandra said dryly. "I should think they are still camped down, but reports also tell us the fort they'd claimed is now as lifeless as before they moved in."

"Strange," Evelyn mumbled, a sense of unease settling over her. "We take in the mages, and the templars go silent."

Cullen gave a grunt. "I told you this would happen. They probably view us as a threat to what remains of the Order."

"But we aren't," Cassandra argued. "Not until they hand us reason. So we focus on closing the breach, then we will look for the templars."

"Unless they find us first," Cullen muttered, shaking his head again.

"Again, another bridge to cross when we come to it," Cassandra huffed, leaning onto her hands that were braced against the map in front of them.

"Has Alexius talked? Plans? Locations? Names? Anything?" Evelyn asked, eyes looking over all four people in the room with her. They all shook their heads.

"Dorian has tried a few times to ask nicely, and when that didn't work… well, I wasn't so nice," Leliana said softly, a glint in her eyes that made Evelyn shudder just a bit. "He decided not to speak to me, either, but I've done all I can short of killing him. And we all know we cannot have that come to pass."

Evelyn scoffed and rolled her eyes. "If anyone is going to be killing that son of a bitch, I get first dibs," she growled softly. "I've still not forgotten what that pain in my ass is capable of doing."

"None of us have. He is under heavy guard, with constant templar sapping done on his magic. He isn't going anywhere," Cullen assured her. "I have my men trading shifts every few hours to keep themselves fresh."

"Good," Evelyn affirmed with a nod. "Anything else I should know?"

After being certain she was well caught up with news, Evelyn excused herself from the meeting and ducked out of the heavy door and back into the main Chantry hall. She was very nearly whistling a happy tune when the sound of her title being called from her right caught her attention.

Vivienne was standing in the shadows, pouring herself a glass of wine and looking at the Herald curiously.

_What does this uppity cunt want now? Maker, I can't even get outside before this broad has something to say. I bet this is about the rebel mages…_

"Herald," Vivienne greeted when Evelyn came into the shadowy alcove. She held the glass of wine in her hand towards Evelyn, who took it with a polite bow of her head in the mage's direction.

"Madame De Fer," Evelyn returned formally. She had no idea how else to address this stuffy bitch, and took absolutely no pleasure in her company to begin with.

"I see you've decided to come out of hiding, my dear," the woman said lightly, pouring another glass of wine for herself before gesturing to the bench seat against the wall. She glided over to it, and sat herself down imperiously, tucking her legs to the side as if she were a lady on a horse. "I'm ever so glad. I've been waiting to speak to you about Redcliffe."

_Called it. Fucking snobby piece of…_

"What of it?" Evelyn asked aloud, trying not to let her temper or suspicions show in her query. Like Blackwall, this was someone she had to work with, and had to maintain some semblance of etiquette when interacting with the staunch loyalist.

"Your decision to allow the rebels to believe they are free to do as they so please, of course," the woman said as if it could anything else. "Do you have any idea in what danger that places everyone around you? You had a duty to protect people–innocents, mages, everyone–and you shirked it for your own personal gain. I couldn't believe my ears when I'd heard."

"Uh huh," Evelyn said dryly, placing her untouched goblet of wine on the table nearest to her elbow. "Personal gain? Care to elaborate, Madame?"

The wretched woman had the gall to _smile_ at her. "Your sister, my dear. Everyone knows it. Everyone has talked about it since you fell from that rift, marked such as you are. Tell me, if your sister were not born bearing the burden of magic, would you still have 'freed' the mages in Redcliffe?"

"Yes," Evelyn said fiercely and without hesitation because it was the truth. "Persecution has been the name of the game in Circles for years. I don't know what Circle life was like for you, but I can imagine your stay as First Enchanter came with many _allowances_ that others did not have. _You_ might have been nice and comfortable in your tower, or at your _villa_ where we met… but that did not extend to the Circles I've heard about nor seen with my own two eyes. Your allowances and courtesies were not the norm for anyone below your rank. So do _not_ sit here and chastise me for making the right decision for the little guy."

Her breath had begun to quicken, and she could feel her face become hot with the blood rushing up to it in her temper. Her fists had clenched into themselves at her sides, and she fought to release the tension in them, trying hard as she could to not appear as if she planned to threaten this snake sitting in front of her.

"Let me ask you a question, Madame," Evelyn said in an offhand way, swallowing her anger. "Why are you here? If you were so set in your way, so headstrong about the way that mages should live under templar rule, why travel away from the capitol and join the Inquisition? Surely your efforts would bore more fruit in the ear of the Empress, or the Mothers in the Grand Cathedral?"

"Changes are coming, Herald," Vivienne said shortly, dropping all sickly sweet pretense. "Changes are coming, whether you or I like it or not. But it obvious to one who is trained in the ways of man that these changes will happen right here in the heart of the Inquisition."

"And you want your voice to be one of those inevitably whispering in my ear? As I thought, then. This is just an extension of the Game to you. Good day, Madame." She turned on her heel and made to stalk away with the utmost speed she could muster short of running from the bitch, but Vivienne's voice carried over to her ears as she departed.

"Yes, go and play house with your little elven thief while you can, Herald. But do not forget that you made a mistake with your decision."

* * *

"Lady Nightingale!"

Leliana turned around at the sound of Charter's voice, inclining her head to the elf as she ducked beneath the flap of the spymaster's base tent. "You have some news for me, Charter?" she asked lightly, noting the way the freckled elf's chest heaved with lost breath, marking her run to the tent.

"From your contact in Orzammar, my lady," Charter panted, holding out the folded missive in her hand. "Messenger dwarf was Carta, said it was urgent you read it."

Leliana's hands opened the vellum without any conscious effort, and her light blue eyes scanned over the single line penned down.

" _KT in royal nest, WCO in company, will fly on morrow. -B"_

KT–Kallian Tabris. WCO–Warden Commander Oghren. B–Bhelen.

Leliana held the paper for a long minute, rereading the line scrawled across it from the King in Orzammar. Kallian and Oghren, in the palace, but likely having already moved on by now.

"She's alive," Leliana whispered, her hands beginning to quake with the knowledge. A weight that had rested upon her breast for four years was suddenly lifting, and she felt years of age slipping from her shoulders. Kal was alive, and was in Orzammar likely not a week ago.

"My lady?" Charter asked, confused.

"Nothing. I'll not be replying to this, and tell no one that I received it. You're dismissed… and thank you, Charter."

Charter gave her a final bow, and shot back out of the tent, leaving the spymaster alone with her thoughts. Leliana read the note once more, then pulled open her robe, slipping the missive into an inner pocket to keep it upon her person at all times. It was the closest she had been to her wife in nearly five years, aside from the ring hanging around her neck; and a note from Bhelen from four years before, when Kal had gone into the Deep Roads.

She had never told a soul that she knew where her wife had gone; it was obvious to her that Kallian did not want anyone to know. Leliana still had no idea what was in the Deep Roads for Kal, because it was much too soon for her to have heard the Calling, and she had taken Little and Oghren with her. A Warden's Call was personal; they nearly always answered it alone. There was only one thing that the bard could fathom the tiny elf chasing in the labyrinth below the surface: a cure.

They had talked about it. Kallian had read everything she could about it. She had even talked to someone (she never called them by name) about it. The only answer the elf had gotten it that it was possible and that it was impossible, all at once.

Then she left. She kissed Leliana softly and left her in their bed in Val Royeaux, snuggled beneath sheets that smelled of Andraste's Grace, the last sweet nothing her wife had tried to give the Left Hand of the Divine. The last sweet nothing that Leliana had missed because of her duty to Justinia… for Dorothea.

But now….

_Please come home, Kal. I'm still waiting on you. Please come home._

* * *

"That fucking self-serving piece of shit mage!" Evelyn was fuming. It was all she could do not to turn around and march back into the Chantry to tell Vivienne how she really felt about the issue. "Fuck formalities, fuck diplomacy, fuck her arrogant fucking face! Just FUCK it!"

She didn't even bother using the stairs to go down to the fighting yard outside of the town. She strode right past Leliana's tent using her… best… language, and jumped right into Varric's campsite just below it. The dwarf jumped three feet when the obviously pissed off assassin hit the snowmelt behind him, and even the sight of his shocked face wasn't enough to make Evelyn smile.

"Whoa, Sharps," Varric said, placating her by using an even tone and holding up his hands. "Who has you all riled up? Saw Buttercup earlier, she said you two talked it out."

" _Vivienne."_ Just the single word cleared up the slight confusion in the dwarf's hazel blue eyes, and he gave a nod of understanding.

"Ah, yeah. She's… something else, huh?"

"She's a conniving, self-serving, arrogant _bitch_ ," Evelyn seethed through her teeth, her fingers opening and closing on their own. She wished Vivienne's neck were clasped beneath them.

"She's a product of her own environment," Varric said easily, taking a seat beside his small fire pit. "You have to hand it to her: she took a shitty hand of cards and played the hell out of it to get to where she's at. A mage that's respected at court? Get the fuck outta here with that shit. It's unheard of where we're from."

"Don't defend that cunt," Evelyn reprimanded him, not wanting to hear the tone of respect that the dwarf held for the mage. "She's an irritating bitch, end of story. Have you seen Sera?"

Varric gave her a small smile, tipping up his personal flask with a slow wink. "Pretty sure she's down in the yard, watching the Seeker split defenseless dummies in half. Says she likes to watch her sweat or some shit like that, I don't know."

Evelyn gave an annoyed roll of her eyes, and a scoff to match. "Maker's fucking balls, if Cass ever connected it like that, Sera would be the next defenseless dummy. Let me go put her eyes back in her skull. I'll catch you later, Varric."

She took a few steps forward, and then remembered suddenly what Cassandra told her about Varric being the one to watch over Sera when Evelyn could not. She turned around and gave him a genuine smile that seemed to make him nervous, as he began to wring his hands a little in front of himself, glancing around himself to see if there was an escape route at hand.

"Thank you, by the way, for taking care of her while I was being a stubborn idiot," Evelyn told him gratefully.

He visibly relaxed, an easy smile now playing on his lips. "Aw, it was nothing. I like Buttercup, and I like you. I knew you'd pull your heads out of your asses eventually. I did hang out with Hawke and Isabela, after all. This tizzy with you two was nothing compared to those assholes."

_All the bits of story I hear about those two… I truly hope I get to meet them one day,_ Evelyn thought to herself with a grin. She felt like she would be good friends with the Champion and her Captain. "Maybe I'll see that dynamic for myself one day," she laughed, giving a final wave as she made her way down to the gates.

Sera was not ogling Cassandra as Varric believed. She was off to the side by herself, back to everyone else in the fighting yard, and throwing daggers at the same tattered target that they had used the first day that Evelyn had started teaching her. Evelyn hung back a bit, crossing her arms over her chest and merely watching the elf throw in silence as she observed her form and technique. Her feet were spread just slightly too far apart, and she was still snapping her wrist just a tad too soon; but two out of the three knives Evelyn saw fly made their target.

Sera caught sight of her when she went to retrieve the knives she had thrown, a grin stretched across her face when she realized Evelyn had been watching. "Hey, what'd you think?" she called out, and Evelyn gave her a nod of approval.

"You're certainly getting there," she called back, walking down the embankment to meet the archer. "I can tell you've been working on it."

"Yeah? I get 'em in more than not. See, look." She turned back around and took the first blade into her hand, sending it flying out without thinking too hard, just as the assassin showed her a few weeks before. It did not stick into the target, though. "Piss! It's because you're here, watching!"

"Oh?" Evelyn chuckled, giving the elf a shake of her head. "I can let you practice some, and go clean up my mess in the cabin, if you'd like? I just came down to calm my temper before I did something I would live to regret."

"Why?" Sera asked, taking a second knife in hand, gauging her throw this time. "Who pissed you off?"

"Vivienne. I wish I could just… bash her face into a table repeatedly until she learned some humiliation."

Sera blew a raspberry, throwing the second knife simultaneously. "Good luck with that, let me have a slam if you ever get the chance." This knife also fell flat, and the imp stomped her foot against the ground in frustration. "Ugh, Andraste's bloomin' knickers, I was gettin' them in earlier, I swear!"

"I know, I saw the last three throws you gave before you saw me. I'm very proud of how quickly you're picking this up." Evelyn ruffled Sera's hair affectionately, earning herself a tongue sticking out at her playfully.

"Had an all right teacher, reckon," she shot back at the human with a mischievous grin. The sight of it made Evelyn melt inside with how fucking good it felt to see it, and she could not stop her hands from reaching forward and grasping Sera's hips.

"Just 'all right'?" she teased back, leaning forward just a bit to hover her lips over the thief's mouth. "I'm insulted, my imp. I trained for years to hit my targets on nearly every throw."

"It doesn't help that you're so pretty to look at," Sera said softly, eyes darting down to Evelyn's lips and back up again to meet her gaze. "Bloody distractin'."

"Know what else is distracting?" She leaned forward just _that_ much closer, pulling back slightly when Sera tried to close the gap.

"You talkin' too much?" The answer was purely Sera, and purely predictable, just like when she made to move her mouth forward again. Evelyn easily dodged it.

"I was thinking more along the lines that dinner is so far away, and I want to lock you inside with me much sooner." Evelyn pulled away from Sera's magnetism completely, and gave her a cheeky wink before flipping on her heel and walking back up to the gates.

The sound of feet chasing behind her a moment later made her forget all about Vivienne, and she gave a genuine smile at the way Sera called after her.

"Hey, wait up! Bugger dinner, I'm coming _now!_ "

_No,_ Evelyn chuckled to herself without voicing the words. _No, you're not; but you will be._

 


	16. Chapter 16

Fingers dancing up her spine roused Evelyn from the heavy slumber she'd slipped into once she and Sera fell into bed after their dinner the night before. The assassin could feel the entire length of the thief's frame parallel to her own, and Sera's leg was thrown over the curve of her ass, the weight comforting. She smiled softly without opening her eyes, biting her lip when a gentle kiss was pressed against the skin between her shoulder blades. Having Sera lying with her again was like a healing potion for her soul, warmth filling in the places that had been frozen since that last night in Redcliffe. Evelyn had no idea when the elf had become a staple in her life, but there was no denying the truth of the situation. Sera was as nonnegotiable as her brother and sister.

"Hey, you." A breeze of warm breath brushed her ear as the imp leaned forward to whisper into it. "I know you're awake. I'm hungry."

Evelyn couldn't stifle her chuckle at the statement. She rolled over onto her back with the amused grin still on her mouth, looking directly into sparkling eyes. "Yeah?" She reached up and touched Sera's cheek. "Didn't you have your fill last night, my imp?"

Sera gave a snort and rolled her eyes at the innuendo. "I mean _real_ food, Shiny. Breakfast on me, yeah? Since you bought dinner."

Evelyn pulled the elf down on top of her, nuzzling her nose into the bend of the thief's neck. "I'm not ready to leave this room," she whispered truthfully. "I'm happy with it being just us here. I don't want to face the world, yet."

Slightly calloused hands slid onto the assassin's hips, thumbs made lazy circles at the juts of her hip bone, and lips kissed their way across her jaw until they met hers with a sweet promise of more. "One more time, imp? Before we go?" Evelyn requested almost pathetically against Sera's mouth, foreheads together and noses brushing affectionately.

Her only answer was a deep rumble of hunger from Sera's stomach that made them both laugh. "Won't be the last time," Sera snickered, pushing herself up to where she was straddled across Evelyn's waist. "Come on, I want eggs. And cheese."

"You're going to turn into a block of cheese one day," Evelyn warned her, shaking a finger at her.

"Better that than a bottle of whiskey," the elf shot right back with a teasing lilt to her voice. "And that's where you're headed, innit?"

"Touché," Evelyn giggled, allowing the elf to stand and begin to dress. Evelyn watched cloth slowly cover the flesh she'd had her lips and tongue all over mere hours ago with a wistful expression.

Sera noticed the gaze and grinned like a desire demon getting her deal before teasing Evelyn by sliding a hand down the front of her newly adorned smalls.

"You're a devil," Evelyn muttered, but she didn't let her eyes stray from the way the hand moved slowly inside the cloth.

Sera laughed deviously and pulled her hand free, grabbing her tights from the footboard of the bed where they'd been kicked the night before. "You're just too easy, Shiny. Come on, let's go before Ruffles No Mercy or Shadow of Birds start bangin' down the door and I can't have breakfast with you."

Evelyn groaned and laid an arm across her face at the reminder that she indeed had responsibilities to see done once they exited into the daylight. Selfish as it was, she truly did not want to be working when she could be playing with her imp. She almost felt as if she had regressed into the devil-may-care woman she'd been four months ago. But then she remembered the giant hole in the sky, felt the usual weight settle over her, and gave a heavy sigh to match the sensation.

"Fine," she said in a slightly whiny tone, throwing her legs over the edge of the bed to sit up. "But take it easy on the eggs this morning, because they give you terrible gas at night."

"If you want me, you have to want my parps," Sera said lightly with a shrug, giving her a sideways grin and a wink.

An exaggerated, long suffering sigh came from the human as she tugged on a pair of leather pants. "The things I do for lo–luck." She nearly choked as the word "love" almost fell out of her mouth, and she was thankful her back was turned to Sera when her face flooded red with the slip. "Your lucky farts, and all that. Yeah. Um, so I suggested sending the Chargers to guard the caravans bringing lyrium. Think it was the right call?"

_Smooth, Trevelyan. Lucky farts. Right. Work talk to recover? Even better._

"Erm," Sera said from behind her. Evelyn did not dare turn and make eye contact, yet. Her eyes would have told the whole story, and as flippant as Sera could be, she was far from unobservant. "I reckon so, yeah. You okay, Shiny?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. Must have lost a few pounds, my pants are loose on my waist." Still struggling to keep the subject away from the slip that she wasn't sure if Sera caught, she racked her brain for nonsense to prattle about as she finished dressing. "Baggy around my ass, do you think?" She braved a glance over her shoulder to see Sera give a confused look at her leather clad posterior and scratch her head.

"I mean, a little? Still nice to look at, though. You sure you're okay?"

"Peachy," Evelyn muttered, pulling her tunic over her head and tucking it into the waist of her pants. "Just nervous about the lyrium shipment. We need that."

Sera let it go, and Evelyn finished getting dressed in her boots and leather vest, pulling her long leather coat over her shoulders as they made their way out of the cabin.

_I've got to be more careful with what I say. If she knows I'm in love with her, she'll run. And I can't do this without her, not now._

* * *

**Jader**

Hawke and Isabela strolled down the street sharing a paper wrapped filet of seared fish. They were walking towards the still-smoking ruin of what was once the busiest inn on the Jader port, nonchalantly as they could to blend in with dozens of other spectators that were meandering the same direction. The building was a total loss, Hawke could see that even from a quarter mile from the pile of blackened wooden beams and piles of stone smudged with soot. She honestly couldn't say she was sorry for it, considering it meant that damning evidence that could implicate her sister and their friends was most likely ashes now.

As bitter as Hawke was that Bethany had to do what she did, she could not deny the small sense of pride inside of her for what her sister was capable of doing. Bethany was powerful, more powerful than Hawke, Carver, or their mother had ever given her credit for being. The three of them had treated her almost like a porcelain doll for the mage's entire life, something to be loved and appreciated; but not to be touched or played with, as if the girl was so fragile she could literally break. Even the allowance of Bethany's forays into Lothering to visit with the lay sister at the Chantry had been a chore for Hawke, who had never let the twins out of her sight when they were children.

When Bethany went to the Gallows as a young adult, it had gutted Hawke. It opened her eyes to see that it wasn't Bethany that needed her; she was the one that needed Bethany. Her baby sister was a rock in her life that had disappeared on a dark night by templar sword. She knew now that the woman Bethany became because of it was a transformation that would have never happened had she continued life as an apostate. There was a certain strength to Beth that was cultivated and preened in the Gallows, and a discovery of self when she met Ellen years later. Living in Gamlen's hovel in Lowtown, or even in the Amells' mansion in Hightown, could not have uncovered the hidden parts to the woman; the woman that Hawke still sometimes saw as the little girl in hair ribbons from their past.

"Thorough," Isabela said under her breath to Hawke now, dragging her out of her reflections.

 _Lightly stated,_ Hawke thought to herself as her blue eyes scanned over the wreckage of the inn. She doubted the registry survived that. She doubted the bodies did, either.

"Anyone die?" she heard a man ask from somewhere to their left. She concentrated on that line of conversation through the gentle hum of voices that were discussing the "accident".

"Got too hot to know right away," a second man answered. "Hasn't been long enough for anyone to be noticed missing."

"Aye," a third voice, this one female, added in. "They reckon most everyone got out alive, someone started yelling about a fire from upstairs, gave everyone in the bar a chance. Some knife ear with those Dalish markings."

Hawke and Isabela exchanged a glance, expressions darkening. It sounded like Dora had a change of heart when she saw that Beth and Ellen were going to clean up after themselves best they could, and changes of heart weren't always a welcome thing in their family.

Hawke gave a jerk of her chin, tearing off a piece of the fish Isabela held in her hands, then popping it in her mouth. She chewed carefully, thinking about how she was going to approach the Dalish woman once they returned to the ship later, after checking her post and Isabela's repairs. She still hadn't gotten past the fact that the stranger had been in the same inn as the rest, how coincidental it was that she was there. If this woman had intentions with Merrill from her old clan, then she was going to be nothing more than fish bait after Hawke and Isabela were done with her.

No post, and only marginal progress awaited the two pirates as they stopped by the hubs for information on each. Neither really expected any significant amount of good luck on either front, but they each held a hope that maybe something would happen to cut their presence in this port short.

"Maker, I've never been so uncomfortable docked somewhere in my life," Isabela groaned as they made their way up the gangplank and back onto the ship hours later. "I would pay for a whole other ship if I…." Her voice trailed off, and Hawke looked over to her with a questioning gaze. Isabela took a breath and met her eyes, the beginning of a grin tugging at the left side of her mouth. "Hawke. Let's get another ship. Smaller. Faster. One we could use to take River Dane into Lake Calenhad."

Hawke's eyes widened, and she grabbed Isabela's forearm in surprise. "Can we do that? Do we have the sovereigns for it?" The excitement she felt in her chest at Isabela's suggestion was clear in her voice, and she gave a whoop when Isabela gave her trademark wicked grin and a wink.

"Let me go see what I can bargain out. I'll be back by nightfall." Her captain gave her a lingering kiss, then dashed back down the ramp to fade into the crowd on the docks.

_If this works, we can leave the crew in charge of the Siren, let them make the shipments, and even take a smaller trade route that flows down into southern Ferelden… maybe even set up a shop in Redcliffe, or on the coast at West Hill… this could be so many possibilities. The girls would be able to settle down like they want, run our stores by land while Isabela and I continue on the sea after this business with the Inquisition is over._

She shook her head at herself, smiling at the positivity that her mind was running with. It had been a long time since she considered anything that didn't have to do with boats, but she knew Bethany and Ellen wanted a homestead in the future, and wanted a family. This could be a way Hawke could make that happen for them, give Bethany one final gift before she let her go to be Ellen's wife rather than her little sister. She wouldn't say anything to them just yet, she'd wait for Isabela to look around to find something. If she couldn't locate a vessel to fit their criteria, the would be no reason to get their hopes up. It would be cruel.

So instead she went in search of the newest passenger on the Siren, one that apparently felt the need to put three of Hawke's family members at risk because she had a bleeding heart. All four of the mages had taken utter refuge below deck, scared to be seen in the daylight and recognized as having been patrons in the inn the night before. Ellen and Bethany had not emerged from their shared bunk since they'd disappeared into it, and Hawke tried really hard to ignore the muffled bumps and gasps that managed to emit through the thick wooden door as she passed on the way to Merrill's bunk. When she drew level with Merrill's door, she paused for a second, waiting to see if there were any words being passed by the occupants, but hearing nothing but silence. She raised a single knuckle, tapping it against the wood grain, waiting for permission before she opened it.

"Merrill?" she called softly after not hearing anything at all from within.

"Come in, Hawke," she heard her friend call back, and she gently opened the door.

The room was pitch black aside from the trail of light that fell inside from the candles outside in the corridor. Hawke could see Merrill sitting on the bed with her back in a corner, knees pulled up into her chest with her chin resting on the tops, arms wrapped tightly around her shins. She looked around the small room, and did not see Dora anywhere inside of it.

"Merrill," Hawke said sadly, stepping in further and quietly closing the door behind herself. The blackness enfolded the two, and Hawke blindly fumbled her way over to the bed, perching on the edge furthest from the elf. She did not want to make her feel trapped, or obligated to talk. She just wanted her to know she was not alone, and that Hawke was there if the girl wanted an ear.

They sat in complete silence for a few minutes, but Hawke didn't push her, or make to leave the room. She knew Merrill. She knew the elf was scared to be alone, but also too meek to ask for someone to stay with her. And as always, after a fashion, Merrill finally spoke.

"He was so strong," she whispered, and Hawke's chest clenched as her stomach gave a roll of nausea. "He was heavy. He smelled like rotten food. He was saying things, things like I've heard some of the men on the ship say about the girls in brothels. I was scared, but… I was mad, too. I was mad that he picked me." She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Just that morning we talked about how it should be the right one for my first time, and I thought you were just being overprotective." Hawke heard her swallow in the dark, and then knew that tears were falling when she heard a small sniff. "But you were telling me the truth. And after this… I don't know if I ever want it, now. He took that from me. Not you. I'm sorry I got so mad at you, Hawke."

Hawke felt that guilt bubble to the surface, seeing that day with Zevran play all too clearly in her mind. "Merrill," she rasped, throat tight with emotion. "I don't like Zevran, but it wasn't exactly the same thing. He wouldn't have hurt you like that man last night. I'm sorry if I've made you think that he would have." She paused and cleared her throat, wringing her hands in her lap, playing with her fingers worriedly. "I know you'll need time, but… don't let this stop you from loving. Don't let it take that from you. You have a beautiful heart, Merrill. You would be doing someone an injustice by not sharing that with them someday. Because it will happen for you, and trust me: it's wonderful when it does… mostly, anyway."

"I'm not curious about it any more," Merrill murmured, shifting audibly on the duvet in the dark in front of Hawke. "I don't want to talk about it. I just want to forget it happened."

"I understand," Hawke said hoarsely, giving a single nod. "Do you want me to go?"

"For now," Merrill said almost apologetically. "I just don't want company."

"Then I'll go. Do you happen to know where Dora has hidden herself? I'd like to talk to her."

"Don't be mean to her, please," Merrill said quickly, leaning forward and placing a hand on Hawke's forearm as the Champion made to get to her feet. "It isn't her fault."

"I'll be civil," Hawke allowed carefully, not wanting to upset Merrill anymore than she was. "I just want to ask her some questions."

"I think she went to find food. She's been here with me since last night, and was hungry. I didn't want to eat, so she went alone."

"Then I'll check the galley. Call me if you need me, Merrill. Isabela is ashore right now, but I'll be aboard." She shuffled awkwardly to the door and let herself out, leaving Merrill to her thoughts, even when she wanted to just hold the girl until she felt like she was whole again.

It devastated Hawke that it happened to the girl. She'd never even considered it happening to her when they'd lived in Kirkwall, because the entire city-state had known that she was a friend of the Champion's; everyone knew that you didn't fuck with Hawke's family. But now, on the seas and in random ports… Hawke was furious with herself that she hadn't been there to stop it.

Dora was indeed seated at the far end of the long wooden table in the galley, bent over a bowl of clam chowder, stirring her spoon in it slowly. Hawke watched her for a moment before taking her first step towards the elf, clearing her throat to announce her presence. The Dalish woman startled at the noise, having been nose deep in a book as heavy and old as the ones Hawke was used to seeing her sister and their friends tote around. When she caught sight of the rogue walking towards her, she gently closed the tome, and gave Hawke a small smile.

"Hello," she said quietly, watching as Hawke swung a leg over the bench seat beside her.

Hawke gave her a nod, eyes scanning over the woman's facial features beneath her extensive and intricate vallaslin slowly, seeing the hint of nerves that lie just below the surface of her otherwise composed expression. She wasn't surprised by that, was quite used to the effect she had on others, so it wasn't a tell that the elf had anything to hide… not yet, anyway.

"How is the ship for you? Did you sleep well last night?" Hawke asked with a pleasant voice, raising an eyebrow with the question.

Dora's pine green eyes fell to the table between them, and she let her spoon fall against the lip of her bowl. She folded her hands in her lap and gave a sigh to match some of the heaviest that Hawke had seen in her entire thirty-four summers. "Not really," Dora said a moment later. "But it was less to do with the ship than the inn."

"Want to explain to me what you were doing there in the first place? I haven't had the chance to speak with Beth and Ellen, and Merrill isn't up for talking about it."

Dora gave a dry chuckle, looking up at Hawke from beneath long eyelashes. "You think I stalked her there, don't you?"

_I don't know what to think._

"Should I?" Hawke asked instead, leaning forward. "It's awfully coincidental that you just happened to be staying in the same inn, don't you think?"

"I had no idea she was there until I saw her in the tavern on the ground floor," Dora replied steadily. "She told me that she was in Jader with friends, but when those three shems followed her upstairs, I followed them because I heard the things they said about her. I don't know her very well, but something in me felt the need to protect her."

It was Hawke's turn to give a dry laugh. "Yeah, she pulls that out in people."

Dora shifted uncomfortably, pushing a lock of deep red hair behind one of her long ears. "She's Merrill of the Sabrae clan, isn't she? The First that was exiled for making a deal with a demon for blood magic?"

Hawke felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise, and her entire body went rigid with the coil of her muscles. "And if she were? What does that mean to you?"

"It means exactly that, nothing more. I won't treat her as an abomination or whatever stupid stigmatisms your Chantry places on mages of such a caliber. She told me her name and origins when we met in the market, but it did not click for me until last night when his head just…."

Dora's voice trailed off, eyes far away as she no doubt relived the scene from the night before in the inn. She closed her eyes and shook her head after a moment. "And if she is, then you are _the_ Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall."

"I tend to avoid being called as such these days. I left all of that in Kirkwall nearly four years ago." It was a chore for Hawke to keep the coldness in her chest from seeping into her words.

"I can't blame you for that. Your name carries quite the tale across Thedas." Dora reached for her cup, taking a swallow of whatever contents it held.

"Only half of that bullshit is even true," Hawke muttered darkly. "And not the good half."

"Isn't that how it goes?"

Hawke didn't deign to answer that. It was obviously an open-ended question, and one meant to lead her off subject. "Look, I just want to know that you being here isn't going to end up being another pain in my already aching ass. I have enough on my plate right now, heading to Haven."

Dora sat up straight beside her, a seriousness settling over her, pulling the loose muscles around her mouth taught with a frown. "I am Thedora, former First of clan Lavellan. I have no recollection of my parents or the clan in which I was born. I have seen thirty-two summers. I am strong in ice magic, but I am also learned in the healing arts. I am a shape shifter, so please don't stomp any spiders you see on board, I could be one of them. I am going to offer aid to the Herald to close the breach in the sky so that the world doesn't fold in on itself, effectually killing everything and everyone I love. Is there anything else you'd like to know about me, Serah Hawke?"

Hawke blinked at her, letting the onslaught of information settle over her. She thought about how easily the words were offered, and how it didn't sound like a lie. She held the elf's eyes, and Dora looked back just as intently.

_Gaze unwavering, no facial ticks, no sheen of sweat, no trembling flesh. By the Maker, I think she's being honest._

"All right," Hawke conceded, standing up. "I believe you. But just a heads up about the spider thing: Isabela hates them, and she would stomp you on sight. Be careful with that."

"Noted. Also… is there an empty bed upon this ship? I, uh, made a web last night. But sleep as a spider isn't quite as relaxing as rest in my natural form."

Hawke shook her head slowly. "Not a private one. There are only two others aside from the captain's quarters, and they're occupied by my sister and Ellen, and Merrill in the last. I can assure you that you would be safe enough in one in the crew racks, however. These men are pirates, but they'd cut out their own eyes before crossing Isabela." She paused, suddenly curious about the shape shifting. "On the subject of shifting… is a spider your only form?"

Dora shook her head. "I have a few others. Two aerial forms, and a land form. The spider is my go to when I want to hide. The others are for more practical purposes."

This perked Hawke up visibly, her arms coming across her narrow frame. "Practical in what ways?"

"I can shift into a hawk, ironically enough. That is the aerial form I use by day. I shift into a horned owl at night. And I love to run in my wolf form. That is a freedom I cannot claim to know as an elf."

Hawke rubbed the skin below her bottom lip thoughtfully, staring at the woman in front of her with a new outlook. Not only was she honest, she could also be useful. "So if I needed a message sent, would you be able to carry it for me?"

Dora stared back at her silently for a moment, then gave a curt nod. "If I were so inclined, I could. But the question is, could you have that level of trust in me that I would see it done?"

"I think I could manage until you give me reason not to. You put your neck on the line for my friend, even if your bleeding heart made you clean out the tavern before all the witnesses were well done steaks."

"There were innocents in there!" Dora's eyes flashed with passion, and she stood up from her seat, her face coloring the same shade as her hair. "I understand the need to protect people– _all_ people. I am fine with those three shems being dead for what they did, but I could not allow the whole inn to suffer for their transgressions."

"Even when that mercy could be what has you swinging from a rope? That act of saving grace got you noticed. The guards know a Dalish woman was the one that called for the evacuation. Do you think they won't track you down for questioning once those three men come up missing?"

"A risk I had to take. Ellen was going to let the whole place burn."

"A fact of which I had to pound into her once she became intimate with one of the only people in my life that matter to me. Don't do that again, Dora. When it comes down to family or strangers, it will _always_ be family. Understood?" Hawke's blue eyes were ice, her jaw tight with her conviction. If Dora couldn't get on board with that fact, then she was nothing more than a liability, and Hawke nor Isabela had the capacity to harbor such.

Dora's lips pressed together hard, and her eyes narrowed into thin slits. "Understood, _Champion._ How you ever got that title with this ideal is beyond me."

Hawke felt her face grow hot with the words, and she took a step towards Dora with her hands clenched tightly into fists at her sides. "Agreed. But if you ever call me such again—"

" _Stop!"_

A familiar voice rang out from behind Hawke, and Dora's eyes shot over her shoulder towards the source in the door to the corridor. Merrill was standing there with one hand bracing her against the door frame, a distraught look in her eyes. Her gaze went from Hawke to Dora.

" _Ma banal las halamshir var vhen! Ma melava halani, mala suledin nadas._ Hawke is dear to me. I can't stand you both fighting."

" _Ir abelas,"_ Dora muttered back, her defensive stance melting instantly at Merrill's words. "You are right. I do myself no justice in this manner. My apologies, Hawke."

"It's fine," Hawke growled softly. She was slightly irritated that Merrill had chosen to address the other elf in their own tongue, and had no idea what Merrill had said to Dora. "All I ask is that you think on my words."

"They will be considered," Dora bit back quietly, reclaiming her seat on the bench. "Just know that it goes against my very nature to act as you wish me to act."

"I wouldn't ask it of you if it were not important," Hawke insisted, shooting a glance at Merrill. "Just as I wouldn't ask it of Bethany. You're not the only bleeding heart aboard this ship, Dora. I cannot count the scars upon my sister's soul that have been carved from the same blade."

_Fuck this. I need a drink._

Hawke slid past Merrill on her way to her quarters to indulge in a tankard of rum. She could only hope that Isabela would return with good news that would sweeten the bitterness on her tongue.

* * *

The manager's office wasn't hard to find in the dockyards. It was surrounded by a crowd of sailors, throwing jests and insults back and forth as they lounged around on cargo crates outside the front entrance. Isabela gave a tiny shake of her head at herself, thinking how absurd it was that Hawke assumed she was going to use coin to buy a ship. If there was anything Isabela knew about ship captains is was that they loved a good fight, the larger the risk, the better.

She just had to find the biggest, most boisterous asshole in the port.

Starting at the manager's office was merely a formality. She would peruse the public registry for any familiar names, be them ship or man, and then decide which vessel would best serve her purpose; whether the captain wanted to give it up or not. If she were completely honest with herself, she hoped that it would be someone that didn't want to roll over and hand it over. She liked to feel like it was a reward well earned, no matter the means.

Isabela moved with a practiced step, eyes forward, into the dusty lobby of the dockyard's registry's office. Every man inside halted their conversations as she entered, every eye in the room now on her curvaceous form as she cast a glance around for the telltale behemoth of the Jader ship registry. It sat on the opposite side of the room, beneath a window that had rays of the afternoon sun beating down on the slightly yellowed pages, small particles of dust dancing above the text.

She ignored the stares she was receiving from the dozen or so business men that crowded the desk against the back wall, walking straight to the book with her chin lifted imperiously. A single dark finger touched the list of names, dates, and times. She pulled it across as her eyes scanned the words to keep her place on the fully filled log, only stopping when a throat clearing loudly sounded off behind her.

"Miss?" A deep baritone voice carried over to her heavily adorned ears. "Is there something I can help you with?"

She allowed a small smile to tug at her lips before wiping it off as she turned around to face the man behind the counter, flipping her hair over one shoulder prettily with a slight pout now on her mouth. "I'm trying to find someone I met last night," she lied smoothly. She placed a hand on her hip as she jutted it outwards just enough for the man's eyes to be pulled downward. "He said he would be on dock eleven this morning, but none of the nice young men have heard his name. I thought maybe I might have heard the wrong dock number, so I came here to check."

She did not miss the scoffing chuckles several of the men gave at her story, but it was to be expected of the part she'd chosen to play. The man behind the counter was still eyeing the lower half of her body, so she made a show of slowly stroking her hand across her midriff. "He was certainly looking for me to be there, but I don't want to wander the docks alone."

"Can't tell," one of the other men quipped, making a gesture at her blades on her hips.

"Oh, these old things?" She waved a dismissive hand at him. "They're more for show than anything. My master likes the way I look with them."

"Does your master know you're down here in search of another man?" An older man asked this, all business by the look of him with his bushy white eyebrows tucked together.

Isabela let a breath of air leave her lungs in a chuckle. "My master is the one that sent me, silly. This man paid good coin. And was exceptionally good at making my job easier, if you know what I mean?"

Several coughs erupted across the room, and Isabela found herself dying inside with the amount of effort it took to not explode in laughter at the looks on these faces around her. "But I am a learned girl. I can read this just fine by myself. Thank you for asking, though. Come by my place and I'll give you a discount." She followed the bogus offer with a wink at the flustered clerk, who readily made himself busy by shuffling papers without giving her a reply.

As the rest of the men returned to their respective conversations, she turned back to the book and kept reading the logs from the past week that had not signed out. Many ships were nearly the size of the Siren, some as big. But there were a few…..

_There. Seventy by fifty. Single head sail. We've got our ship, Hawke._

She tapped her finger on the entry, making a mental note of the dock number, and the name of the captain. Thirty-two. Captain Petyr Grenau.

_Sounds Orlesian. Maybe should watch myself, if he's had military training. Chevaliers are no fucking joke._

She casually moved towards the door with one last sultry look tossed at the clerk that was trying hard not to watch her ass as she left. But once she was outside and out of sight of the sailors catcalling after her, she quickened her pace down the pier towards dock thirty-two.

The ship was mediocre, if she were honest. It was so much smaller than what her tastes ran, but sleeker and more capable of speed than the Siren. It didn't hold half the crew of her own ship, either. She could make a headcount from the pier before her feet ever touched the gangplank, noting fifteen men total. This was including the man in a feathered hat standing at the bow, a stack of papers clutched in his gloved hands.

_That has to be Grenau. Orlesian to a bloody fucking fault. Time to go set up the scene. I'll have to go back to the ship to change and let Hawke know the deal._

Before she could turn to leave, a wide arm came around her shoulders from behind, the meaty hand holding a blade to her throat. She froze, eyes narrowing dangerously at the contact. "All right," she purred. "Whose coin are you after? I can give it to you."

A deep throated chuckle thundered near her ear. "Captain Isabela, there is no coin that can save you from this blade. Let's take a walk, wench."

* * *

**Haven**

Two weeks passed without notable incident. The Chargers had gone on to meet with the next caravan sans Iron Bull, who had taken a sole position as body guard for Evelyn. So far, that position had only pertained to being a drinking buddy and sparring partner, as the two spent their days in the training yard and their nights in the tavern.

"Gotta admit, you hit hard for someone so small, Boss," Bull was saying as they entered Flissa's. "Helps that you can jump higher than your own height."

"You're just too slow, big man," Evelyn teased him good naturedly, making the qunari chuckle under his breath. "It takes you all week to swing that ax of yours, thought I was going to have time to make a drink and read a book before it came within a hair's breadth of me."

"That's why you flew across the continent when I hit you with my shoulder instead, right? Must have been a good book," he shot back, and Evelyn let her head fall back with laughter.

"Hey, it's all about recovery, and I rolled right out of that and ended up doing a waltz on your horns!" She slapped him on the small of his back, wincing at the twinge in her shoulder that made itself known with the action. "I'm still gonna be feeling that for a few days, mind you," she added grudgingly.

"Aw, don't be a crybaby," Bull laughed. "I barely touched you. Squishy bits you have."

"Oi, I like her squishy bits, so don't hurt 'em!" Sera's voice carried over the low rumble of drinking soldiers and scouts, and Evelyn saw her seated at their usual table with Varric and Blackwall.

Evelyn slid onto the bench seat beside her lover, accepting the bottle of whiskey that Sera handed her, turning it up as Bull replied to Sera's order.

"She's all right, just be gentle with her, little one," he said easily, taking a single chair at the end of the table and waving his hand at a barmaid to order his ale.

"She would rather it be fast and hard," Evelyn cut in, dodging the hand that tried to swat her on the upper arm. "What? It's fucking true, and you know it."

"Don't gotta tell the world, you sod," Sera muttered. "Anyway, did Ruffles find you? She came round about an hour ago, askin' after you."

Evelyn shook her head and took another draw from the half empty bottle. "No, I was out on the woods with Bull, not in the yard. She say what she wanted?"

"No, but she seemed like it was important. Might wanna find her before you're bloody toasted."

Evelyn nodded her agreement with her imp and pushed herself to her feet to leave, but not before leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to Sera's mouth. "I'll be back. Don't start the game without me."

"Don't worry, Sharps. Buttercup is shit without you to pull the cards," Varric assured her from the opposite side of the table, shuffling the deck of cards in his hands.

"That's what I'm worried about," Evelyn admitted as she made to walk out. "She'll be in my coin purse pulling silver to make her bets if she's broke by the time I'm back."

"You like it!" Evelyn heard Sera's last words as she door swung shut behind her as she made her way out into the dusk.

Josephine was still in her office just as Evelyn had hoped. If she were honest with herself, she was too sore to be wandering around the town looking for the ambassador. The noblewoman was pouring over a stack of vellum by light of several candles, and was so absorbed that she did not hear the rogue enter the room.

"Josie?" Evelyn said quietly to get her attention, and Josephine looked up quickly. She startled a bit in her seat, her hand almost knocking over the inkwell on her right.

"Maker! You're quiet when you want to be, Herald!" Josephine recovered quickly, giving a bob of her head in greeting.

"Didn't mean to sneak up on you. I was told you were looking for me?"

Josephine gave a single nod, then shuffled through the several sheets of paper on her desk before pulling two free. "I've had another missive from Ostwick, if you'd like to read it?"

"No." The answer was short and immediate.

"I thought you might say as much. This other letter is from Krem of the Chargers. They'll be here in less than a day's time, with the lyrium shipment intact. That being said, we can assume to be ready to close the breach in no more than two days. Are you ready for this, Your Grace?"

Two days. If asked about this three weeks ago, Evelyn would have been ready to go regardless of whatever risk the task entailed. But now?

_I don't want to die._

She swallowed hard, giving a jerky nod to Josephine's question. "I am ready. It must be done, to whatever end." Her left hand unconsciously clenched at her left side. "Even if it means the worst."

Josephine gave her a small understanding smile. "Perhaps you don't give yourself enough credit, Herald. I do not believe the Maker would give us such a gift and then take it away."

_But what if I'm not a gift from the Maker?_

"I'm going to retire to my cabin for the evening. I have a lot to think about between now and then. Good eve, Josie."

"And to you, as well, Evelyn."

Evelyn didn't go to her cabin. She didn't go to the tavern. She went directly to Leliana's tent that was still lit in the coming night.

"Evelyn?" The spymaster was seated in a chair near her work table when Evelyn lifted the closed canvas and slipped inside noiselessly. "Are you well?"

Evelyn didn't reply, looking around the tent with a heavy feeling pressing into her lungs. She didn't know what compelled her to come here until the bard had risen and crossed the ground between them, and taken Evelyn's slumped shoulders into her hands. When the assassin looked up to meet the icy blue eyes in front of her, she felt the heat of tears threatening to spill.

"The night before the attack on Denerim," Evelyn began in a hollow voice, swallowing a lump in her throat. "What did you do? How did you feel?"

Leliana's concerned gaze searched her face, understanding settling the questions her eyes held for her friend. "I was terrified. But I was also resigned. Duty had to be done, and I knew that it would kill Kallian. I did not know of the deal she'd made with the witch, so I believed that night to be my last with her. We made love as if it were so."

Evelyn nodded. It was as she suspected. "I go to close the breach soon. The lyrium is nearly here. A few weeks ago, I was biting at the bit like a wild horse to close the breach, believing it would be absolution for my pain. Now that it is time, I do not feel the same way. I–I don't want to die."

Leliana pulled Evelyn to her just as the tears came, enfolding her in a warm embrace. "Shh," the bard whispered. "I do not think it will come to that, Evelyn. It is a daunting task, to be sure, but I do not think it damning."

Evelyn fisted the sides of Leliana's robes, her face pressed against the cool steel of her chain mail vest. "Maker, I pray not. I've never been this happy in my entire life, finding a family like this, where I feel wanted and like I belong. And Sera… Maker, I don't want to leave her, Leliana. I love her. I want to spend my life with her, and I haven't even had the chance to start."

"You will," Leliana promised. "You will."

"I hope so," Evelyn said hoarsely, releasing her hold on the bard and taking a step back. "Sorry to bother you with such trivial things. I'll leave you to your work."

"You're never a bother. Get some rest, yes?"

"That's the plan. I don't feel like drinking, anymore. See you later. Thank you."

Leliana gave her a nod. "You're more than welcome. Good night."

Evelyn did not stop by the tavern to let Sera know she was going to bed, she just went straight to her cabin. She peeled out of her armor and climbed beneath the covers on her bed in her smalls, rolling over and putting her back to her room. She closed her eyes, but sleep did not come. She instead laid there and played out what could happen over and over in her head, each time getting bloodier and more painful than the last.

She didn't know how much time passed before she heard the door open and Sera call out her name into the dimly lit room. "Shiny?"

Evelyn looked over her shoulder, seeing Sera beginning to pull off her tights. "Hey, imp," she said quietly, and Sera gave her a funny look.

"You okay? Why didn't you come back?"

Evelyn gave a shrug, turning back over to look at the wall. "Just lost the mindset for cards and drinking. The lyrium will be here tomorrow. It's almost time to close the breach."

She felt the straw mattress shift as Sera slid under the covers beside her, moving all the way over to where her front pressed snugly against Evelyn's back. Evelyn clutched the hand that slid over her waist and brought it to her lips to plant a lingering kiss on the thief's knuckles. Sera's fingers flexed to squeeze Evelyn's own, and she nuzzled the back of the assassin's neck.

"You worried, Shiny?" The whispered question made Evelyn bite her lip as she merely nodded, not trusting her voice at the moment. Her first impulse was to lie and show a bravado that she didn't think she could muster, but she knew lying to the elf so transparently would only cause more trouble.

Sera tugged gently, signaling Evelyn to roll over onto her back. Evelyn complied, turning so that she was facing the elf, the tears in her eyes evident even in the low light provided by the low burning fire in the grate. "Hey," Sera murmured affectionately, cupping her hand on Evelyn's jaw. "None of that, yeah? Stupid breach can't take you. I won't let it."

A sad smile pulled at Evelyn's lips. "Putting an arrow in it, imp?"

_Only Dorian truly knows what happens if I die. No one knows the true impact of what we saw. Maker, please hear my words. Let me live to see years, to help fix this madness before I take my final leave. Let me live to love this incredible woman lying with me now._

"Damned right," Sera whispered, leaning forward to place a slow kiss to Evelyn's trembling bottom lip. "Mine."

Warmth flooded through the assassin at the tempest's words, and the kiss she gave her back was wholehearted.

_This is why I have to live. Fuck that breach. Fuck the Elder One. I'm going to fucking live through it all for this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note.
> 
> I. Am. SO. Sorry. A bit of writer's block, added to the new Mass Effect game (Vetra and Sara one shot coming soon), plus an addiction to Critical Role… multiplied by participating in TWO table top RPGs equals one busy author. That's not even counting work and life errands PLUS A NEEDY DOG THAT IS NOSING MY ARM EVEN RIGHT NOW. Sheesh.
> 
> So, we are close to leaving Haven. May we all take a moment together to breathe and say, "Finally, Rogue, after over 100k words the story can begin!"
> 
> Several things are happening in the next chapter, which will be usual monster in length. I have a tentative outline in my head, and some translations to make… Shit, that reminds me.
> 
> The elven that is said by Merrill to Dora loosely translates to "You're doing yourself no justice. You decided to help me, so you have to deal with the consequence of that." (In reference to the friction between Dora and Hawke)
> 
> And, of course, Dora's words back are a simple "I'm sorry."
> 
> And how about my Isabela? Was a bit nervous to write from her POV, she's another character I'm not sure I serve with a justice she deserves.
> 
> Thank you guys for the patience, and I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Later, you adorable taters.
> 
> P.S.
> 
> What do you think about a one shot featuring Leliana and Tabris, just to get to know them together before I decide if they'll be reunited?


	17. Chapter 17

**Haven**

Evelyn did not sleep a single wink. She stood now at the window of her cabin that faced the east, the rising sun breaking through heavy clouds. She tried hard to keep her gaze on its newly born rays, but in truth her eyes were magnetized to the gaping, glowing green tear in the sky.

Today was the day. And she knew well it could be the last sunrise she'd ever see.

She took a glance over her shoulder at the lump under the messy covers of her bed, and swallowed hard at the guilt in her chest. It was almost selfish, the way she'd allowed this thing with Sera to develop, not knowing if she would live or die. But the force of whatever drew them together was too powerful, the connection deep and undeniable. Even now, standing there in nothing but her very skin, the pull to rejoin her imp in bed was strong. But her fear of what the day would hold was so much greater.

Her thoughts wandered back to her conversation with Josephine two nights before, and how another letter from her father had reached the ambassador's desk. A part of herself regretted not reading it, or allowing Josephine to recount its contents. But there was no way she could add to the weight that was already an albatross upon her shoulders. She could not falter. She could not willingly allow herself to break.

Today was too important.

Heaving a sigh, she turned from the window and crossed the room to a small table where a stack of vellum and a full inkwell sat patiently waiting for use, and took a seat before them with a quill in her hand. She did not need to pause and think on her words; she'd thought about them all night.

_Dear Ellen,_

_Eleven years have gone by since we last spoke. Eleven years since I tried to convince the templars that I was you, and you were me. Eleven years since I bit and clawed at any flesh I could find beneath the armored arm of the man that held me back as two more dragged you away from me. I want you to know that not one day of those years did you not cross my mind. I wondered about you and your life throughout the rest of our childhood, and when I was of age and the Circles fell, I searched for you._

_I wandered through Starkhaven, fighting mages and templars and bandits taking advantage of the chaos, just to find your name absent on the Circle's former roster. I thought you maybe dead, and I regret that I did not press my search. I didn't want to know it if you'd died, didn't want to grieve for you if you had not. I was selfish, and too wrapped up in my own life to allow that part of my heart the attention it clearly needed._

_Needed, as I have needed you all these years._

_You have been my best friend, even in the wake of absence. I still spoke to you, though your ears never heard the words. I still counted on you, though the space at my side remained empty. I have carried the torch for mage equality, as I still do. I declared the rebel mages under Fiona free, and I hope that creed carries forth even in the event of my death upon this day._

_Today, I go to close the thing that all call the Breach. I was marked for this task, equipped with the only tool capable of the goal. But I go with a clear conscience, as I know the truth of you now._

_Varric Tethras has kept my company these last few months. You remember him, right? He is the Champion's best friend, and as Cullen Rutherford shared with me, you are close enough to her. Bethany Hawke, eh, sister mine? I thought I was the one out for notoriety, but it seems it is one of many traits we share._

_I, too, fell in love with a woman. Her name is Sera, and she is from Denerim. I met her in Val Royeaux nigh on four months ago after she sent an arrow whizzing past my ear to catch my attention. She caught it, all right. I was falling from the moment I laid eyes on her. You'd hate her. She's loud, obnoxious, opinionated, and utterly wonderful. I'm not sure I would have lasted this long within the Inquisition without her. She's kept my heart light in her presence, and a smile on my face. She sleeps now as I sit writing these words to you to leave in the care of Seeker Pentaghast and Lady Nightingale, both well trusted and loved advisors–friends– of mine._

_I love you, Ellen. I have always loved you. Promise me one thing. Promise that you will live, and that you will live well. Love, laugh, drink, dance, fight, and fuck. Take care of Bethany, and allow her the same courtesy. Neither of us are proud of our roots, but we have that damnable Trevelyan pride that chokes us when we could be at our bests._

_I regret that you and I could not have the chance to meet again. I regret that Maxwell will be alone when that man passes, and that we shall never know the freedom that would follow his death._

_I have done wrong. But I have spent many days now trying to do what is right._

_Love,_

_Evelyn_

She read over the words on the pages, lightly blowing upon the wet ink, trying to be as silent as possible so as not to wake Sera. The sore spot above her left breast was burning hot, and there was pressure building behind her eyes as she carefully folded the pages and sealed them with wax from her candle.

But she couldn't break. She couldn't falter. Not today.

Today was too important.

The first letter done and set to the side, she ran her fingers through her hair and took a deep breath, staring down at the next blank sheet. This letter was going to be a little harder, but she had to write it.

_Maxwell,_

_I'm sorry I haven't kept my promise to you. I haven't written. I haven't kept my nose clean, and my daggers have not been spotless. I haven't forgiven. And you know without me telling you that I have not forgotten my last night in Ostwick._

_I know you've heard the tales of the "great" Herald of Andraste. The many good things that she has done, the miracle that she survived. Bullshit, Max, all of it. Let's start with it's a miracle I survived the Conclave. It was an accident. It had to be. I don't remember what happened, but it can't have been Andraste. Why would she pick me? One thing I remember about the Conclave is why I was there._

_Do you remember the three men that came for Ellen the day she was taken to the Circle? I do. Knight Captain Jarmon Elder. Knight Lieutenant Brannic Norwick. Knight Lieutenant Xander Ammen._

_Those three templars were at the Conclave. And that explosion obliterated every bit of evidence that all three were dead before it happened. I quietly made my way through the throng of armor gathered, making my marks. They'd given me a gift by remaining in the same group of templars from Starkhaven, and I had stalked them for months, waiting. I knew their faces by heart, heard their voices in my sleep since I was eleven years old. I couldn't have mistaken them if I'd tried._

_It was so easy… I just unbuttoned my jacket and made my tits look nice. I dangled a few vials of lyrium at them and told them that could have it for free if they'd all just fuck me at once. Stupid pigs followed me right to a private room. I kissed one, straddling his lap so that my front was concealed, while the two others stood close behind me, hands wandering. They were so set on having me that they didn't even hear the first man gurgle when I slid my smallest blade into the flesh behind his ear. He died right away._

_The other two were tricky. I had to let them pull me between them. I had to swallow bile when they kissed my neck and slipped their hands under my clothes. But they were exactly where I wanted them. Armor half off, right where I could slip the same small blade between their ribs. And when they were dead? I stomped their faces in._

_But I have done good. I've helped. I've tried so hard to be worthy of this title, even if it may be a false one. I've saved as many lives as I've taken, if not more, in these past four months. I know now that I am not the monster I believed myself to be. I know the bann's words ring hollow. There is more to me than murder._

_I needed to tell you these things. I needed you to know what I became. I'm not the saint everyone says I am. I need you to understand how hurt and angry I was. How out of control._

_Then the Inquisition happened. Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast, Right Hand of the Divine; Leliana, Left Hand of the Divine; Varric Tethras of Kirkwall; The Iron Bull of the Chargers; Dorian Pavus of Minrathous; my Sera._

_These people are my family. They have been what I never knew I was missing. And since I arrived here in Haven, my life has felt like just that: life. I never knew what it felt like to live. Like I was loved like you loved me._

_Home. Something that even you couldn't give me. I'm not blaming you. It wasn't your place. The happiness I had in life did come from you and Ellen. You were both my world._

_I'm in love for the first time. I know I prattled on as a teenager about being in love with D. But that was nothing like where I am now. Her name is Sera. She's everything Bann Trevelyan would hate. First and foremost she's an elf. She hates nobles. She actually has made a profession out of antagonizing them, and I idolize her for it. The only thing that could piss him off more would be if she were a mage, but she is not. She's one hell of a shot with a bow, though. But she's bright and funny, and keeps me on my toes. And Maker, Max, she's the most beautiful person I've ever seen._

_The feeling in my chest she gives me is something I hope you have one day, big brother. I truly hope you meet the woman that will make an honest man out of you and calm that stallion in your heart._

_I close the Breach today. I don't know if I'll live through it. But I needed you to know these things._

_I love you, Maxwell. You were my brother, my teacher, my father. You were the man in my life I needed the bann to be. And I thank you for that._

_All My Love,_

_Evelyn_

The final letter received the treatment given to the first. But this time she stood and moved back to the bed, to the thief curled beneath the duvet. Evelyn's hands slid around Sera's thin waist, pulling the woman to her as she stretched back out as if she'd never left. Her fingers splayed on her imp's stomach, her face nuzzled into the nape of her neck. Evelyn deeply inhaled, taking in that familiar scent of flame, memorizing the smokiness of the skin. She traced her nose up the archer's neck, and Sera twitched in her arms, melting back into her when Evelyn's lips began to follow the same path as her nose.

Sera's hand wrapped around Evelyn's left wrist after a few minutes, led it down between her legs, spreading her thighs slightly to give the assassin room to touch her. Invigorated by Sera's silent request, the gentleness of Evelyn's mouth slowly ignited with passion as the elf's hips matched the movement of her fingers against the archer's sex.

_If this is to be my last time becoming one with her, I want to see her face._

"My imp," she whispered directly into Sera's ear. "Turn around for me. I want to see you."

The thief rolled over and slipped a leg over Evelyn's hip, pulling them even closer together, brushing her nose against the assassin's. "Stop that," she whispered sleepily. "Actin' like this is the last time. It ain't."

_Every time could be the last time, imp._

Kissing her was the same otherworldly experience it had always been, stirring up the mist of emotion inside of her and condensing the wisps into waves. Evelyn found herself wondering again if she'd known it would come to this, would she have even allowed the thief inside of her the way she was? Would she be lying here tied together with her fingers exploring as deeply as they were? Would she be rolling Sera over onto her back and bracing herself on one arm just to watch the archer's face become slightly damp with sweat, her freckles becoming lost among the blood flushing her cheeks? Watching the way her pupils dilated, the way her bottom lip just hung in the pause of time itself, plump and begging to be nipped? If she'd known she would never again know beauty like the sight before her, would she have taken this chance?

_I love you. Maker, I love you._

The words were caught in her throat, blocking the passage of air, choking her with the meaning the phrase held. She wanted to tell her, wanted her to know, but was terrified of what consequence would be had if she allowed those three short words to tumble from her lips and onto Sera's as she kissed her again. But Maker, how they _burned_. Evelyn never knew that words could be so heavy, even when she'd held them so dearly all her life. It was beautiful, in such a bittersweet way. She wondered if her imp could see it in her eyes, pleading to be acknowledged; because the elf reached up and cradled her jaw so tenderly in that moment, her own eyes soft with emotion.

"You're so beautiful," Evelyn whispered in a broken voice, pressing her fingers in as deeply as she could with the declaration. "Never let anyone tell you otherwise, my imp. You're perfect."

The thief shook her head with a tiny smile playing on her mouth, tracing her fingers around Evelyn's jaw lightly, then pulling her face down to hers for another kiss. "Daft tit," she murmured affectionately a moment later, breath heavy in Evelyn's mouth. "Honey tongue doesn't know when to stop."

"It never will, I promise you," Evelyn popped back with a chuckle. She allowed herself to fall completely against the woman below her and angled her hand to fit more comfortably, wrist burning with her efforts, but she didn't stop. She went faster.

Sera's back arched when Evelyn curled her fingers back towards herself, a cry breaking out of her. Her blunt nails ripped down the assassin's back, making Evelyn hiss with the pain but also making her lose the shred of control she had. She dipped her face beneath Sera's jaw and bit her, pumping her wrist harder inside of her. Legs came around her waist and clenched taught thigh muscles around her, holding her prisoner in their grasp. Sounds like music were floating into her ears, adding to the swimming sensation of her head, and she wasn't surprised to find that she was as close to coming as Sera was.

The imp fell first, but the noise she made and the tremble of every muscle in her body had Evelyn following her right over. Her head fell onto Sera's chest, and Evelyn closed her eyes as her body pounded, listening to the slightly faster rhythm of her lover's heart beneath her ear. If Sera herself were this beautiful, Evelyn had no idea how to describe the magic of that sound.

The tears still pressed against her eyes.

But she could not break.

She could not falter.

Today was too important.

* * *

**The Imperial Highway, south of Orzammar, north of Haven**

Swollen, aching ankles reminded Ellen of why she was fond of the ship. They'd been walking for over a week now. Their party of six had become a party of nine, with the three strangers that found Isabela back in Jader right at a fortnight ago. Now the trio led them down the Imperial Highway towards Haven, and Ellen's heartbeat constantly stuttered when she realized who was waiting for her there. The scarred elf had explained to them that they had to travel slowly, because there was an army gathering in the Frostbacks, and they really did not want to find a bulk of the soldiers that made up the mass.

"The Inquisition isn't as large as it could be, but they have a right better chance at handling those assholes than we do," the elf had said when Hawke questioned why they weren't moving faster.

But for now, they were camped for the night. A blazing fire was lit in the center of the clearing they'd found, and their sleeping rolls were laid out in various positions around it. Dora was patrolling the perimeter in her wolf form, keen green eyes scanning the wood line and the path to the beaten road they'd abandoned in favor of rest. Merrill was scribbling away in the journal that she'd started the moment they'd first camped after they'd fled Jader. Hawke and Isabela were sparring in the shadows outside of the warmth of the flames, clinging of blades ringing in the forest around them. Bethany was curled up against Ellen, face nuzzled into the nook of the storm mage's shoulder, on the cusp of sleep. The three strangers were casually scattered in the light, the Avvar sharpening her ax with practiced hands on the whet stone; the qunari leaned back onto his elbows and staring at the flickering flames; and the elf sipping on a bottle of corn liquor with her black eyes glittering in the dark.

"You look a lot like that Herald, you know," the elf said suddenly, pulling Ellen from her thoughts about the very same person mentioned. "Saw her in Redcliffe at the Gull and Lantern when she freed the mages. Ordered a few bottles of whiskey, went up to a room alone. Didn't see her come down before we went home. Our house isn't far from the village."

Ellen couldn't hold back the smile that played around her mouth. She was so proud of Evelyn. Her sister had done the impossible and ended the major conflict in the Hinterlands between templars and mages, and had given her blessing to those that wished to be free of the Circle's hold.

"Yeah, I get that a lot. Probably something to do with the fact that we're twins."

The elf had taken a mouthful of liquor, but she choked on it as she tried to swallow, looking at Ellen with disbelief, as the Avvar chuckled from the other side of the flames. "Like, really blood sisters?" the elf, Stickers, asked Ellen disbelievingly.

"Truly. Same last name and everything," Ellen sighed wistfully. "Haven't seen her since we were children, though. Circles tended to ruin that for people."

"Mage. Right," Stickers agreed, nodding slowly. "Known a few of your lot. A couple I liked. Most I didn't. One I hated. He didn't last long." At her words, she reached below the neck of her shirt and pulled out a necklace with several brown and wrinkled things strung onto it. "His tongue is the second from left. Called himself Finriel. Fuckin' Dalish snowflake, couldn't have had balls. His mouth shot off more'n I liked to hear it… one night, it shot off for the last time and I cut out his tongue. He didn't really survive that."

Ellen's eyes bulged at the realization that all of the wrinkly things on the leather were once someone's tongue. "You, uh, have quite the collection."

_That is the most disgusting…_

Stickers didn't look at her as she tucked them back beneath her vest and tunic, turning up the bottle of white liquor instead. "Fuck 'em," was all she said after she swallowed. But after a silent beat she added in the most reassuring way she could, "But don't worry. You lot seem all right. You haven't spoken to me like I'm a bloody slave just because my ears aren't round."

Ellen gave a wry grin at that, her green eyes making their way over to Merrill scribbling furiously into her journal. "No, and we wouldn't. I have a sister that doesn't have round ears, and I don't take kindly to anyone bothering her about it."

Before their conversation continued, Hawke and Isabela appeared from the dark, both sweaty with their hair sticking to their faces. Ellen gave them an amused look, to which Isabela stuck out her tongue in response. "Getting cozy with my new friends, El?" the pirate asked, pushing her stray hairs back beneath her bandana.

"Something like that," Ellen replied easily, adjusting when Bethany shifted against her. She glanced down to see that her intended had truly fallen asleep in her arms.

"Friends, now, Captain?" Stickers asked cheekily, shooting a wink at the pirate. Isabela laughed.

"Saved my ass. I think that counts well enough as a friend. And friends share their hooch, so pass it over," Isabela said with a smirk, reaching out to take the bottle Stickers handed her.

"You never did tell the story like you said you would," Hawke reminded her lover, leaning back much in the same fashion as the qunari, Watcher.

"Didn't I?" Isabela replied dryly, swigging the liquor absently. Her eyes fixed onto the flames in reflection. "Not something I'm proud of admitting. I was fucked, Hawke. If they hadn't come along, then we both would be so fucked right now."

"You've mentioned that part," Hawke drawled sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "I want to know just how you figured that we couldn't have gotten out of it."

"Blood magic like I've never seen," Isabela blurted out, her face darkening with the memory. "Mind reader, could control my every movement. A bloody fucking Tevinter mage and a red templar."

They'd all seen the red templars. Infected with red lyrium, the men that once stood sentry in the Circles across Ferelden, the Free Marches, and Orlais now were monsters by their own hands. They'd killed a few on their travel from Jader. All of them looked at Hawke like she was some sort of answer to their madness, each trying to take her to a man called Samson. A man Hawke had known in Kirkwall.

"I was casing a ship captain," Isabela began, and Ellen focused on the pirate's voice. She was curious to know why Isabela had shown back up on the Siren, handing control over to Brand, then ordering them to get their shit together and come the fuck on, all the while three strangers stood on the gangplank waiting for them to join them.

"We talked about getting a ship that could travel the Dane, and I'd found the perfect one. I was planning a coup, was gonna come back to the ship and grab you to set up a duel. But he got me before I could even turn around."

* * *

**Jader, two weeks ago**

"I don't believe we've met, mate," Isabela quipped as she straightened up from her crouched position behind the shipping crates. The dagger pressed into the skin above her jugular a mite harder.

"Nay, but my master would like a word with your Champion, and you're gonna bring her right to us."

That gave Isabela pause. She'd never been taken just to ruffle Hawke's feathers. Usually it was an old debt or flame come back to try and bite her in the ass. "I don't know what you're on about," she lied, moving her hands slowly towards the daggers on her hips. "What's this about a Champion?"

"Touch your blades and I have my friend here rip you apart from the inside. Make her walk with us, Verinus."

Before her confusion had time to clear, the pirate felt something trickle through her body, icy cold and in her very veins. The blade at her throat disappeared, but when she tried to react by shoving away from the wall of a man behind her, she found she couldn't budge. Even worse, she was turning on her heel and following a black haired mammoth in a deep red cloak, telltale color of a templar. But she wasn't doing so under her own power. Her body was moving on its own accord. It was then she noticed the smaller man in a dark robe with a heavy hood hiding his face, but she could see his fingers moving rhythmically and she recognized right away the spell that was manipulating her as one that Merrill had used in front of her years before.

_Fucking blood magic. Fucking hell, how do I get out of this?_

They traveled through the docks together, no one casting them a second glance as they pushed through the throng towards the warehouses and dilapidated housing around them. She knew it was the district of the port city that constituted as the slums, and that no one there would question two men taking one woman into a single room hovel in the far back corner of the block. It would just be business as usual to the locals.

"Now that you've managed to quiet your tongue," the templar turned to face her with a smirk, "I'll help you understand exactly how you're going to help us."

"The Elder One won't like us telling his secrets, templar," the wheezy voice of Verinus leaked from beneath the darkness of his hood. His bony fingers never stopped their motion, never let Isabela give a twitch of her muscles.

"She won't live long enough to pass them along," the templar disagreed with a shake of his head. "Though all _should_ know his glory. All should know the greatness of the living god that is Corypheus."

_Corypheus? Why does that sound so familiar? …No. No, it couldn't be._

She was somewhat glad her blood was under control so that she did not physically react when the realization of who the men were talking about finally sank in. That darkspawn magister that Hawke's father bound. The one Hawke herself supposedly killed.

_Bloody fucking rot… I have to get to Hawke before they get to her._

Verinus gave jerk of his wrist, and Isabela flew forward, smacking her face into a wall once, twice, three times. "There's no reaching your Hawke before us. I can hear you panicking in your mind. Nothing is yours now. The Elder One has shown me so many things…."

She felt sick. This was beyond blood magic that Merrill could do. She couldn't read minds, Isabela had never heard of mind readers. Mind control, like this asshole was doing now with her body, but never actually reading thoughts. There was nothing. She hadn't felt this spiraling feeling since being locked in that cell with the tamassran those years ago.

**CRASH! BOOM!**

A mighty battle yell filled the small room that the three had entered, but it was happening behind her and she couldn't turn to see what the hell was happening.

But then, all of a sudden, she could.

It was like she was weightless. The sudden lifting of the spell made her legs crumple under the return of her body weight on them, and she hit the dirt floor of the hovel hard. She snapped honey brown eyes over her shoulder to see Verinus had taken an arrow to his throat, but was not quite dead, yet, those bony fingers now scraping madly at the feathered shaft jutting from beneath his chin. His hood had fallen back, and Isabela's stomach twisted when she saw his face: he looked like a living corpse. His flesh was yellowed and taught around his skull, eyes sunken and the outline of his teeth visible through thin lips. He was making empty gasping sounds as he tried to suck breath into his body, but a single dagger thrown from across the room silenced him for good as it sank into his forehead with a hollow thud.

Through the chaos, a single thought entered Isabela's mind.

_An elf, a qunari, and a barbarian walk into a bar…._

A woman in animal skins and a mohawk was using the shaft of her great ax to batter the templar, who was giving his all in the one on one fight, but still losing ground fast as she beat him towards a wall. A qunari in leather armor and manning a long bow stood near the door, keen eyes scanning the room around him. And finally, an elf with long dark hair and mean looking facial scars was nonchalantly pulling her dagger free from the dead mage. All three of them were strangers to Isabela, and if she were another woman, it may have even shocked her to see such a band of saviors.

But Captain Isabela, Queen of the Eastern Seas and the Sharpest Blade of Llomerryn, was very nearly never shocked.

Until the woman in the mohawk beheaded the templar with a single swing, and in the next motion had the head in her hand and was lifting it in the air with her tongue out.

"Redow! No! Tainted blood! We've talked about this!" The elf screeched, dashing over and grabbing the bulging bicep of the barbarian… likely an Avvar, now that Isabela got a better look. "You killed him in less than a minute, he was a weak piss tosser, anyway."

"Every kill I've made the past four moon cycles have been tainted," Redow growled back, showing her teeth at the elf. "I'll never have a true victory with filth like this walking the land."

"There are more coming," the qunari informed the other two, looking back over his shoulder into the dirty street outside. "Four, maybe five. They're not moving fast, but they'll still be pissed when they come in and the captain isn't bound and gagged."

"Who the fuck are you people?" Isabela blurted, eyebrows high on her tanned forehead, edging the seam of her blue bandana.

The elf turned dark brown eyes onto her, the scars running over the underside of her left eye getting deeper as she flashed Isabela a roguish grin. "Later, lovely. Right now, I need you to draw your blades and help us ruin these arsehole templars' day."

"Bloody hell," Isabela muttered, pulling her daggers from her hips and glancing around the one room hovel for an advantage point that wasn't there. It was a tiny room, and the great mass of the Avvar warrior was taking up most of it. She raised an eyebrow as the qunari ducked back out into the street, and she caught a glimpse of his greyish skin flash past the side window. Not a second later, she could hear scratching at the back wall, and then a light thump on the roof above their heads.

"Watcher will snipe the majority of them before they even come inside," the elf told her, backing her thin frame into the open chest of the woman with the ax. "The three of us should be able to take the rest easily."

The warrior bent down and nipped the tip of the elf's long ear affectionately at her words, and the elf reached a single hand up to touch the underside of the Avvar's jaw with just as much care.

 _They're lovers_ , Isabela realized with a quiet chuckle to herself. _The Avvar is probably into those wicked scars… wonder what the hell happened to her?_

Sounds of arrows releasing back to back broke her out of her thoughts, and she moved to the side of the door as the sound of angry yelling got closer, until she could hear the sounds of boots slapping against the mud right outside the door. Isabela grabbed the first one that crossed the threshold with their sword drawn, and pulled her blade across the tender throat of the templar, spraying blood over the next two to enter the room.

Again, the elven stranger's dagger sang through the air as it was flung, and the wet thud it made into the throat of the second templar rivaled the whack of the Avvar's ax cleaving the third templar's head in two.

"For all of Samson's gumpf that his templars are strong, these have to be the runts of the lot," the elf said conversationally as the last one fell to her knees with a soundless gasp for air. "Dunno why the bleeding fuck Corypheus would send these dummies after the Champion of fucking Kirkwall."

The Avvar gave a snort of disapproval, her upper lip curling back over her sharp teeth. "Strong. That's not what I'd call these soft lowlanders."

"Yeah, yeah," came a sigh from behind Isabela as the qunari dropped from his position on the roof, placing his bow across his back as he gingerly stepped over the bleeding corpses strewn in front of the door. "We know, Redow. You've been complaining about it for months now."

Isabela didn't put her daggers away. "I want to know who the bloody fuck you three are and how did you know who I am?"

The elf pulled her knife from the second templar's body, wiping the excess blood off of it nonchalantly with the templar's cape. "I'm Stickers," she said with a happy grin and a tiny twinkle of her long fingers. "This handsome bugger is my brother, Watcher. The scary one is my Redow."

"Stickers. Seriously? That's your name?" Isabela deadpanned, looking between the three of them, not seeing one crack a smile at all other than the one on the elf's scarred face.

"Aye. It's not the one me mum gave me, but it's the one I've earned these past twenty-eight summers." With the sentence came a loud THWACK as the blade embedded itself into the wooden beam behind Isabela's head. "See? I stick 'em and they fall."

Isabela's fingers gripped the leather hilts of her daggers, face twisting into a scowl. "You should count your blessings that you missed. That Champion you mentioned wouldn't have liked you much if you'd hit me."

Stickers' grin only grew wider, and the other two chuckled along with her. "I never miss my target, Captain," the elf said with a dangerous edge to her voice that glinted in her dark eyes.

"Your name carries tales across the land," the Avvar spoke up, moving to stand behind the elf again. "Captain Isabela of the Siren's Call. And everyone knows Hawke."

"Right," Isabela mumbled, shaking her head at the warrior. "But how did you know I was taken?"

"Been following this lot since the Herald freed the mages in Redcliffe," Stickers told her with a shrug. "I wanted to know who was mobilizing the templars that defected from the Chantry, and I found out about a week ago when we followed them straight to a man called Samson. He spoke for the Elder One, a creature called Corypheus. The guy literally has red lyrium sprouting from his ears."

Two things in one sentence that did not settle well in Isabela's stomach. Corypheus and red lyrium. Samson also sounded familiar, and after a few seconds of thought, she remembered the lyrium addled man on the docks of Kirkwall, smuggling love notes and people beneath the Order's nose. The same templar Order that he himself had been cast out as a embarrassment to their pride.

_Well, shit. We have to get out of Jader. Can't let them come back for us. Ship be damned, I have to save Hawke._

* * *

**Temple of Sacred Ashes**

Cassandra and Solas stood next to her below the column of green mist that led from the ruin of the temp and into the sky. She was shaking, her stomach was turning in on itself, and her hands were as sweaty as her brow.

Evelyn was fucking terrified.

The way Solas had arranged the mages around the edges of the site, how uniform they all stood with their staves in hand, how solemn every different face looked. Evelyn felt like she was being judged, judged for not being one of them and standing there in the place she had fallen after the explosion. Their gazes fell onto the mark on her left hand, and it made her even more uncomfortable than she believed was possible. She felt like there was a certain amount of jealousy, especially from the older mages that answered the call. The inkling did not make her nerves any better.

Her eyes searched past the mages to the top of the wall behind them, locking onto a familiar slender form. The bow across its back and the wave it gave _did_ help the nausea rolling through her, however. Her imp was there. Sera gave her strength.

Tightening her jaw, she looked back at Solas and Cassandra, straightening her spine defiantly. "Let's do this," she said to the pair, both of whom gave a nod in return.

"Mages!" Solas called out to those gathered. "Focus on the Herald, lend her your strength!"

"We are right here, Evelyn," Cassandra said softly to her, a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Maker be with us all."

_I sure fucking hope he is._

Evelyn stepped forward towards the giant rift as she felt the magic rushing through her, an alien feeling that she decided she didn't like at all. It was different from the soothing burn of being healed, and everything inside of herself was screaming about how wrong it was that the magic was in her veins now. The usual vibration was thrumming through her core, shaking her muscles and bones so hard her teeth were clacking in her skull. It had never been this bad, even at her worst in the Hinterlands months before. But no rift she had yet to seal was the monstrosity of the one she stood below now.

_Please don't let me die._

She threw her marked hand above her head, releasing the copious amount of tension that had built itself in the limb, feeling what was almost relief as the mark connected to the Breach. The same sound of energy rushing past her ears deafened her to her surroundings, but it did not last long. There was a boom, and the very ground shook with its reverb abounding through the air. Evelyn fell back as the energy pushed straight down and at her, the wind knocked from her chest when she landed several feet away.

Her head was ringing, her body felt like she'd been smacked with the broad side of Bull's ax, and she couldn't get breath back into her lungs. She laid there for a minute, gasping for air and clutching her left hand to herself as a separate pain seared through her arm until it simmered into a dull roar.

_Did it work?_

She braved a glance up to the sky above, and felt light headed when she saw the Breach gone, and a thin green line across the clouds in its place. She gave a breathless chuckle and let herself fall backwards until she was prone on the ground. A mere second later, she was being hauled to her feet by Cassandra, who threw a supportive arm around her to keep her upright.

"You did it!" the Seeker exclaimed, pride evident in her tone. "Solas will probe the Fade for confirmation, but by all visual account, it's sealed."

"Shiny!" A second arm slid around her waist from her other side, and Evelyn immediately felt even better with the elf's presence. "Bloody hell, that was brilliant!"

Evelyn couldn't answer either woman for fear that if she opened her mouth, she'd be sick. But thankfully neither pressed her for words.

"Come, let's get you home for some rest," Cassandra said gently, leading them towards the path back to Haven.

_Home. Home sounds good._

* * *

**The Imperial Highway**

The sun was not even at the noon position when the world quaked with the sound of an explosion.

Hawke dove for Isabela, but her eyes searched for Bethany as their entire party fell with the vibration that burst through. "Anyone hurt?" she called in a slightly panicked tone, looking around for the source of the commotion but seeing nothing.

"Look!" Merrill's voice called out, a single finger pointing to the sky.

Hawke followed the direction indicated, and saw for herself that what had been looming above their heads for months now was nothing more than a wavy green seam. "Maker," she whispered, in awe at the sight. "It's gone."

"There was a surge in the Fade," Bethany mumbled incoherently, cradling her head with both hands. "I've never felt anything like it."

"Nor have I," Ellen agreed from her side, rubbing the space between her eyes. "I hope I never do again."

"Bloody mages and the weird shit. So, I would guess that the Herald of Andraste closed the Breach. Wonder how the hell she managed that?" Stickers pondered as she picked herself up from the ground.

"The mark on her hand," Dora said softly, also gazing up at the scar in the heavens. "She was the only one able to seal the smaller tears between worlds. It had to be the same method on a grander scale."

Hawke looked over to Ellen, smiling at her because the smile on the storm mage's pretty face was infectious. "Your sister really is something, isn't she?"

Ellen laughed a happy laugh, falling backwards onto the ground with her eyes never leaving the scar in the sky. "Yes," she answered sincerely. "She really is."

"Oh, I'm going to fuck the holy right out of her when I meet her."

"Fuck you, Hawke."

* * *

**Haven**

Music. Laughter.

Things so sorely missed throughout Thedas when the Conclave blew up, and killed the Divine.

Things that were fresh in Haven now as Evelyn stood near the Chantry, looking over the village with a wistful feeling in her chest. She did not begrudge them for what they felt was victory, but she did not forget that the Elder One was still out there. She did not die closing the Breach, but that did not mean her task was finished. There was work yet to be done.

Again, she thought about how much she had changed in the past four months. Once, she would be celebrating and just as raucous as the entire village was tonight. But now she felt decades older, wiser. She knew well that today had just been a step to true victory, and she dared not tempt the fates to call endgame so early.

"I wondered where you'd gotten off to." The familiar Nevarran accent reached her ears before Evelyn even turned to see the Seeker approaching. "They are exuberant tonight, are they not?" A gloved hand gestured down at the village bright and cheerful with hope.

"Yeah," Evelyn sighed, crossing her arms over her armored chest. "I hate to think it is too soon for such jovial display, but I do feel that the worst is yet to come."

"Perhaps," Cassandra agreed with a slight nod. She moved to mirror Evelyn's stance, both fighters watching the celebrations. "But I do not see why they should not be allowed these small comforts. Solas has confirmed that the heavens are scarred, but stable. Today was indeed a success."

"Success," Evelyn murmured thoughtfully to herself, biting at her bottom lip. "I can't allow myself to acknowledge it as so, Cass. I just have this feeling that… it's going to get really fucking bad before it gets better." She gave a shrug with her words, helpless beneath their weight.

"As I have said before: when it happens, we shall face it together." The utter conviction in Cassandra's vow made Evelyn's worry subside just enough that she entertained the thought of having a drink with Sera at Flissa's.

_Maybe at least I can breathe long enough to enjoy the steps taken?_

But no sooner than the thought entered her mind, bells began to ring all over Haven, and everyone's laughter turned into panic when words carried over the wind.

"Forces approaching!"

Cold shot through Evelyn, and she and Cassandra barely shared a bewildered look before both of them took off at a full run for the gates to the village, which were being pulled closed when they arrived. Cullen was already standing there with one his top lieutenants, gathering information from the man as Leliana and Josephine also appeared behind him.

"What's going on?" Evelyn demanded, her heart in her throat and choking her with the constant pattering against her jugular.

"There's a full fledged army making their way down the mountain path to Haven as we speak!" Cullen spat, running a hand through his hair nervously.

"Under what banner?" Josephine asked, eyes wide with fear.

"None," Cullen answered curtly, his eyes darting around the wall that separated them from the impending invasion.

"None?" Josephine repeated, confused.

Evelyn made eye contact with Leliana, who was suspiciously quiet throughout her fellow advisors' exchange. The icy blue eyes were inscrutable as always, but there was a certain twitch to her mouth that made Evelyn want to comfort the older rogue. She was about to question her when someone banging at the gate brought her attention away from the spymaster.

"I've come to help!" came a young man's voice, muffled through the heavy wood. "But I can't help unless you let me in!"

Evelyn didn't think, she reacted. She shot down to the gates and shouldered her way between the two soldiers guarding from the inside, unlatching the heavy bolt herself to allow the stranger entry. The gates unveiled a boy in his late teens, face obscured by a large floppy hat, but straw like blond hair stuck out from beneath it. When the gates opened, he lifted his face as the large man in Venatori armor in front of him fell flat on his face, dead by the small dagger clutched in the boy's fist. Evelyn's dumbstruck gaze met soulful blue eyes set in a pallid face, and she didn't have time to take his features in before he was shoving past her and into Haven.

"I'm Cole," he blurted out bluntly. "I came because the templars are coming. You took the Elder One's mages, and he's very angry. You know him? He knows you." The boy turned and pointed a single finger out into the distance beyond Haven. "He's there. And he's so angry."

Cullen blanched and sputtered behind Evelyn, catching her attention again. "What? Templars? Is this the Order's response to our alliance with the mages? I did not expect them to be happy about it, but this? This is madness…." His voice trailed off as he squinted his eyes at two figures not too far away, standing at the vanguard of what looked to be a massive bulk of moving men. "I know that man," he breathed in disbelief a second later, shaking his head. "But what is that creature next to him?"

All of them saw the tall, deformed silhouette beside the man Cullen recognized. But not a single one of them knew what it was. Just that it was the catalyst for all the fanatics that they'd encountered. That creature looking directly at Evelyn was the Elder One.

And he had come for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This delay was brought to you by Computer Decided to Fuck Up, LLC.
> 
> Seriously, though, my browser crashed and through a series of unfortunate events, I couldn't get it seen about. I randomly tried to reinstall it yesterday, and it worked. So I'm not complaining.
> 
> My sincere apologies for the wait, guys.


	18. Chapter 18

**Val Firmin**

The two friends entered the tavern together, leaving the hulking mass of canine outside of the building, much to the dog's dismay. But Kallian knew that Orlesians were finicky about dogs in general, and that she was automatically pegged as Fereldan when they'd wandered into town less than an hour before. If they weren't judging her for her ears, then they would definitely judge about her mabari.

"We can have a drink or two," Kallian was saying to Oghren when they entered, "but I don't want to sleep here. I'd rather sleep on my roll than in an Orlesian inn. They won't allow Little to sleep inside and I won't leave her out there alone."

" _Regarde ce seigneur chien!"_

Kallian heard the jest before she could even finish her sentence. "Look at this dog lord," they'd said. She sighed and shook her head, dark hair rippling over her shoulder as she did so. Orlesians were her least favorite nation of people, all of them snobbish and elitist. She had never fit in here, even when suited in dashing armor and a decorative sword, mask upon her face. Her ears were a telltale that she was less than dirt in a proper Orlesian's eyes.

" _Je peux la sentir ici,"_ another nasally annoying voice replied to the first.

Kal snorted in derision. Smell her? She'd just bathed in Lake Celestine, for Andraste's sake. If anything, they were smelling Oghren, who had that contented look on his face that he only ever had after releasing a silent fart.

" _Comme si elle venait en merde avant d'entrer!"_

_Smells like I rolled in shit before I came in? Yup, definitely smells Oghren._

She made eye contact with a serving girl in a red apron, and the little blonde turned as red as her smock. The girl cupped a hand around her mouth and leaned towards the barman that manned the counter, whispering conspicuously. _"Pas mal pour une oreille de couteau, non?"_

Kallian gave her a glare as they seated themselves, and the girl had the humility to look slightly ashamed. No one in this room knew that Kallian was nearly fluent in Orlesian, having been married to one for years. So it was the most satisfying thing to happen since she came out of the Deep Roads when the same girl came to take their order and Kal dropped seamless words onto the table before her. _"Ces oreilles entendent et connaissent les mots que vous parlez, la jeune fille."_

" _Je suis désolé, mademoiselle! Je–"_

Kallian held up a tanned hand to silence whatever else the girl was going to say. _"Ne vous excusez pas pour les choses et ne regrettez pas."_

"Yeah," Oghren grunted from the other side of the small table. "What she said."

Kal snickered, knowing full well that he had no idea what was being said between she and the girl, but still appreciating his support. "What do you want, dwarf? Ale? Whiskey?"

"Whiskey, since you wanna go sleep in the woods tonight."

The blushing girl was silently waiting on them to finish their discussion of what to drink, too scared to utter another word now that she knew Kallian was fluent in her tongue. _"Deux bouteilles de whisky et de la viande et du pain, s'il vous plaît."_

" _Tout de suite!"_ The girl whisked away as quickly as her feet could take her, and Kallian heaved a sigh as she watched her go. For all the weight Orlesians put behind being polite and having manners even when planning to murder someone, they could be just as uncivilized as those they merely mocked.

"How's your head?" Kallian asked Oghren, who shrugged noncommittally at the question. "The dreams?"

"No better, no worse'n it was. A bit louder, like we're goin' the right way," he replied easily, leaning back in his chair. "Could use a bit more booze, then a wink or two of a kip."

"So could I," Kal chuckled, looking around the room at the stares they were getting. It was all she could do to not give them all the finger and then drop her pants for a full moon. Maker, how she hated Orlais. It was a testament for her care of the man sitting with her that she chose to come with him rather than continue on to Haven, back to Leliana. That was the only Orlesian accent in the world that did not grind on her mind and make her feel sick. Quite the opposite, really, as her wife's voice was one of her favorite things about her.

**BOOM!**

The world shook. The very hairs on the back of Kal's neck stood on end. Where she was just sitting in a chair at a table, she was now on the floor. The Orlesian asshats were screaming, rushing for the door with half their pretentious masks lying abandoned in the tavern floor.

"The bloody hell was that?" she asked Oghren as they climbed to their feet a second later. Without waiting for a reply from the dwarf, she placed two fingers into her mouth and let loose a loud whistle, calling her dog to her side, these masked idiots be damned.

She could hear Little barking at the door, but the hound couldn't get past the gaggle of ninnies that were blocking the only way in and out, crying out about the sky.

" _Le ciel! Le ciel! La violation a disparu!"_

Kallian turned wide cerulean eyes to Oghren, whose face was scrunched up in confusion. "They're saying the breach is gone," she said quietly enough that no one looked their way. "Let's grab those bottles and get the fuck out of here, Oghren."

"I'm with you, girl," he agreed, already moving towards the barman that cowered behind his counter. "Gimme those bottles yer girl was gonna serve us," he demanded of the shaking, wide eyed man.

" _S'il vous plaît,"_ Kallian added helpfully, throwing a few gold coins onto the counter top in front of him as Oghren snatched the bottles without waiting for them to be handed over.

Little was sitting on her haunches in front of the door now, mouth hanging open in a wide grin, tongue lolling out of the side. The Orlesians standing around the entrance behind her were giving her a wide berth, but otherwise not even paying her any mind at all. Their faces were tilted upwards, fingers raised in the same direction. Kal gave Little a pat on her head and let her eyes cast upwards, a little grin tugging at her lips.

"I'll be goddamned," she said under her breath. "Andraste's tits, that fucking kid did it."

"I knew a kid that killed an archdemon once," Oghren said from behind her, also looking up at the newly sealed sky. "Learned then not to take the little blighters for granted." He gave her a hard slap on the back between her shoulder blades. "Come on, let's get goin' if we're goin'. Make some footsteps before the ruddy sun sets."

* * *

**Haven**

"Cullen, have your men arm the trebuchets. Josephine, try to round up as many civilians as you can and herd them towards the Chantry. It's the most stable structure in town. Leliana, if you can disperse archers into the trees, that would help a lot. It's dark, so we would have that advantage. I want Cassandra, Bull, and Dorian with me. We're going out of the gates and meeting them head on. Fuck this guy. I want his _fucking_ head."

Evelyn was done. She was pissed. All of the future that she'd seen in Redcliffe had come flooding back when she laid eyes on the thing that caused it all.

_Not today, motherfucker. Not to-fucking-day._

"Whoa," a familiar voice said from behind her now as her advisors scattered to do as she'd bid them. "Shiny, I didn't hear my name." Evelyn closed her eyes and took a slow breath in through her nose before she turned to face her imp, steeling her resolve.

The assassin shook her head at Sera, eyes open now and tight with determination. "No, imp. I want you to find cover and stay low. Safe."

The imp's face screwed up in frustration, her cheeks darkening with the blood rushing to her head at Evelyn's words. "Sod that, and sod you, too, if you really think I'm gonna just let you go out there without me!"

"Sera, there's no time to argue about this," Evelyn said fiercely, taking two steps forward to put herself nose to nose with the thief. "I don't want anything to happen to you! You mean too much to me."

" _Evelyn."_ Sera rarely called her by name, and the firm way that she said it now told the assassin she was not going to win this disagreement with her lover. "I'm bloody _goin'_. Not letting you out of my sight with that friggin' … _thing_ out there. Me and you, remember?"

Resolve crumbled.

Despite the chaos erupting around them, warmth bloomed in her breastbone, and Evelyn surged forward and pressed her mouth to Sera's briefly, but meaningfully. "Me and you," she said softly, defeated in argument yet optimistic at the same time.

Bull appeared from the ether at that moment with a panting Dorian right behind him. "I don't run," the Tevinter mage said doggedly, shaking his head. "But I think I'm going to have to start, if I'm sticking around to play with you all."

"We can arrange a routine if we survive this," Evelyn told him with a grim smile, stepping back from Sera.

"Sharps!" Varric came running down the stairs towards the gate, Bianca locked and loaded in his hands. Blackwall was directly behind him with a sword drawn and a furious expression on his face. "We were in the tavern, sorry we're late, had to grab my girl!"

"Can you two ask Solas to help the others with healing the wounded villagers, and tell Vivienne's useless ass to help defend the village inside while we meet them outside?" Evelyn asked quickly, looking from the dwarf to the Grey Warden.

"You got it, Herald," Varric readily agreed, turning back around immediately to find them.

Cassandra was already half way out of the gate when Evelyn turned to follow, pulling her longest pair of daggers free from her back. They were curved with the hilts in the middle, perfect for rolling through enemies and cutting them down quickly. She did not plan to play with her victims tonight. Tonight was going to be bloody, and it would all be templar blood.

Cullen was already engaged, expertly taking on two red templars at once. He felled the second one as Evelyn rushed past him towards the next group of them coming up the path by the lake. "They're attacking the trebuchets!" Cullen called to her. "Defend them until we can get them turned and cocked!"

She did not pause to reply.

All she could see was red. Every single man she cut down was glowing with the eerie mist the red lyrium poisoned them with, every single one of them screamed with more than one voice as her blades passed through them. She didn't even feel human at that point. She was like a dwarven-made machine, constantly moving and swiping and spinning and dodging. Her mind was clear, her eyes were as sharp as her weapons. She could feel the way her opponents were going to attack, and had her counter ready with every execution. She was covered in blood now, but this time none of it was hers. None of it was Sera's. Or Cassandra's. Or Leliana's.

With their attention on the northern trebuchet, word came down the hill that the southern trebuchet wasn't firing for some reason, and that one would be the best one to fire at the mountain side. That one could take out the bulk of the Elder One's forces.

"Stay on them!" Evelyn ordered Cullen from the base of the trebuchet they'd cleared. "Don't let them past!"

She turned and ran up the hill towards the southern trebuchet, seeing the loose rope that a handful of red templars were trying to cut through. But these soldiers weren't expecting the Iron Bull to show up.

Bull gave a mighty roar, heaving his ax above his head as he charged ahead of their small party, and by the time the other four had caught up to him, the four templars that had sabotaged the trebuchet were in pieces. Had Bull not been on their side, he would have been terrifying with the blood streaking across his wide upper body from the swings. His dark scowl and heaving chest only added to the scare factor, and Evelyn had a moment where she thanked the Maker that he was with them.

"Phwoar," Sera muttered from beside Evelyn as the two immediately began to pull the rope tighter. The human rogue knew the elf meant Bull's display.

"Yeah, really phwoar," Evelyn agreed with a dry chuckle. She wrapped the excess rope around the bracket and moved to turn the wheel that cranked the lever that would let it fly. "Can you guys cover me while I try to cock this thing?"

"Let them try to get to you," Cassandra growled, flexing her fingers on the hilt of her sword, then slamming her pommel into her shield.

Dorian swept his staff outwards in a semicircle around them, casting a great wall of flame that one would have to be truly stupid to try to pass. "We all have our little parlor tricks, hmm?" he said with a cheeky wink at Evelyn.

Evelyn shot a look at Sera to gauge her reaction to Dorian's fire, finding herself pleased when she saw the imp was looking past the flames and into the darkness rather than curling her lip in fear of the magic cast right on front of her. Not wasting another second, Evelyn began to push the wheel, finding it harder to turn than she thought it would be. She couldn't afford to ask for someone's help, she needed the four of them on the defense if they ended up swarmed again.

Which they were. And not by mere men. These creatures were what appeared to once be men, but now were monsters made of red lyrium. Evelyn watched over her shoulder as she struggled with the wheel, seeing one of them start to glow red, long shards of lyrium splitting through their shoulders and pectoral muscles. Their eyes were a shining red, and their teeth were bared in sharp grimaces through what Evelyn was sure had to be the pain of making the lyrium grow from their very flesh.

"Andraste's tits," Evelyn groaned to herself, pushing against the resistance even harder. "This just keeps getting better and fucking better."

"Don't worry, we have this," Bull snarled from a few feet away, moving to the far edge of Dorian's fire wall. "Vint, can you push this shit towards them?" The qunari gestured at the flames with the end of his ax.

"Certainly," Dorian answered calmly, and Evelyn wondered how the man could keep himself so composed in the face of danger. "Stand back, ox man, this is going to get _really_ hot."

He raised his hands and the flames grew with the movement, then Dorian began to push them forward with his hands in front of his chest, taking slow steps towards the oncoming enemies. "If they breach the wall, you and our dear Seeker will have to engage!" the mage called back over his shoulder to Bull.

Bull smiled a terribly frightening smile. "With pleasure," he purred deeply, bringing his ax to fight position.

"Indeed," Cassandra agreed with him, nodding her approval at his declaration.

 _My friends are fucking lunatics, but I wouldn't have them any other way,_ Evelyn thought to herself fondly. The wheel was getting tighter, a sure sign that it was almost ready to release. One more solid push made it unmovable.

"Ready!" she called out to her friends, pulling her daggers free from their home on her back. "It's in position, and I'm firing!"

She cut the taut line, and the trebuchet fired the boulder towards the mountain on the far side of Haven, striking hard enough to trigger the avalanche she'd planned to cause. Rocks, trees, and tons of snow rumbled down like thunder, and the torches of the oncoming army were completely covered. A loud cheer rose up from all around, soldiers and civilians alike cheering on the success of the plan.

But then a heart-stopping screech seared through the night, and Evelyn's attention snapped up from the enemies on the ground fighting with Bull, Dorian, Cass, and Sera. There was an enormous shadow encasing the fires scattered on the outside of the walls, and all Evelyn could think was _Oh my fucking Maker, that can't be a dragon._

But it was.

Evelyn never cared to be close to dragons after the one in the Hinterlands tried to scorch her, Varric, Cass, and Solas. They were dangerous and held no regard for life outside of themselves. But they were also beautiful animals, majestic in ways only dragon kin could be.

But this one? It was as monstrous and lyrium addled as the soldiers they'd fought. She could see the skeletal form of its jaw through a gaping space in its scales, could see the red-charged power building in its throat.

_Oh, fuck._

"Run." The single word was said way more calmly than Evelyn actually felt, but her friends heeded it without hesitance, Sera even going as far as to grab her hand and pull Evelyn along with her.

The dragon destroyed the trebuchet they'd just abandoned like it blew lightly on a fluffer-flower. Pieces went everywhere.

The heat behind them was unreal, but as they ran, Evelyn saw Harritt kicking at his door, blocked by a small stack of crates that had fallen over in front of it. He was infuriated, cursing about his family hammer being inside. She tugged her hand from Sera's grip and pulled her blades free once more, laying into the crates hard.

"Grab what you can and come on! The Chantry is the only structure that won't easily burn!" she yelled at the blacksmith as he barged inside the smoking building.

"Nothing here worth dying over, Herald!" he called back. "Don't worry about me!"

Sera wrapped her fingers around her wrist once more to get her attention as the dragon flew overhead, screaming again and loosing another bout of red charge. "Come on," she said hurriedly, tugging at Evelyn. "There's probably loads of poor sods that need help."

Lysette, a templar that had left the Order when they left the Chantry, was one of the first ones they came across once they'd entered the village. The woman was beating red templar monsters off of herself with her long sword, flinging curses at them just as surely as she was swinging her blade. She was holding her own and then some, but the former templar didn't see the five or six enemies that were pouring over the top of the wall behind her for an ambush.

"Lysette!" Cassandra cried out, rushing forward with her own sword drawn and held at the ready. "Behind you!"

"Maker take you all!" the templar roared as she turned and bared her bloodied blade at the oncoming red templars. "Andraste guide me."

"May she guide us all," Evelyn muttered to herself as she moved forward to help. Her shoulders hunched up as another terrible wail from the dragon sounded in the dark of the night. How she hated that sound. It terrified her and enthralled her all at once. There was something inside of her that told her that this confrontation between she and it was inevitable, and she found herself wishing she'd at least _tried_ to slay the beast in the Hinterlands. Maybe if she had, then she would have some distinguishable backbone right now, instead of jelly for knees every time the monster sang its song.

And so she began to ignore it, best she could, anyway. She instead focused on the army breaching their walls, attacking them nearly endlessly. When it finally slowed to a trickle, Lysette turned to the bloodied Herald and gave her a nod of thanks and a salute. "Thank you, Herald. If you hadn't stopped, I fear I may have fallen."

"The Inquisition takes care of its own, Lysette," Evelyn returned, saluting back. "Get to the Chantry. It will be as safe as it can be there."

"Maker be with you," Lysette answered, taking off at a jog towards the back of the village.

The five of them started after her, but then another voice caught Evelyn's attention.

"Someone! Anyone! Help me! I can't get out!"

It was Seggrit. His door had been blocked from the outside with a pile of his shipment crates that had fallen in front of it. Evelyn hesitated, seriously debating with herself whether or not the shithead merchant deserved a rescue. On one hand, she would love nothing more than to leave him there to face the music for the things he'd said about her lover, and other elves, too. Her eyes found Sera's, the latter questioning the former, the elf's eyebrows knitted together in confusion at the Herald's hesitation. Then Sera realized as well who the voice was, and her expression softened just the slightest.

"Shiny," she breathed, giving a shake of her head. "You gotta. You know you do. Don't leave him."

_It would serve him right. Fucking dick._

Evelyn shook her head clear of the darker thoughts clamoring through it right then, then barked at Iron Bull a little more harshly than she intended. "Bull! Can you cut through the crates?"

"Piece of frilly cake, Boss," he answered, not letting her tone get to him. He smashed through them with ease, and Evelyn kicked Seggrit's door in for the second time.

The man was in the back corner, cowering again but from falling embers this time. His cabin was in full flames, the roof threatening to give at any moment. It pissed Evelyn off that he wasn't trying to move for the exit now that it was open. But when she grabbed him by the upper arm and hauled him to his feet, his words pushed her over the edge.

"It's about fucking time!" he yelled at her angrily, and she balked right as she reached the doorway.

"What? I almost let you fucking burn, you ungrateful piece of shit!" She fought the urge to shove him back inside, and before she could give into it, the dick had broken from her grip and taken off running to the Chantry at full sprint.

"Sod off, you bloody beast lover! You're no Herald of mine!" he called back, giving her two fingers as he ran.

Cassandra's hands appearing on her shoulders was the only thing that kept her from giving chase and opening his throat at that point. "You can deal with him later, Herald!" the Seeker was saying in her ear to placate the demon that had risen inside her with those parting words.

"That 'beast' he spoke of is the only reason I didn't just walk on by and let him burn!" Evelyn snarled, heart pounding in her chest with the adrenaline pumping through it.

"Ignore him, Shiny, doesn't matter what he says," Sera insisted from her left, giving her a nudge to move on. "Let's finish searching the town."

She saved four more lives within the next thirty minutes, but lost more than she saved. It wasn't easy. Every time she saw someone die, she felt like she wasn't living up to the standards she'd set for herself. It made her wonder if she could really face this creature that was attacking, or the thing that was its master, but it also made her realize one last thing as she piled into the Chantry behind the rest of her team: it didn't matter how she felt. It had to be her. Leliana was right. This was her task, her purpose.

And Evelyn would see it done.

"That dragon has diminished by half the time you've bought us. It's cutting a path right to the village for those monsters to attack," Cullen said, frustrated and again running his fingers through his curly hair.

"I've seen an archdemon," Cole supplied from the side where he helped a wounded Chancellor Roderick into a comfortable position. "It was in the Fade, but it looked like that."

_Of course. A corrupted Old God is an archdemon._

"It doesn't matter what it looks like!" Cullen snapped angrily at the newcomer. "It's tearing Haven apart!"

"He doesn't care about Haven," Cole disagreed with a shake of his head beneath his hat. "He only wants you." His blue eyes locked onto Evelyn, who squirmed under his steady gaze. Something about Cole was off, but Evelyn didn't have time to discern what it was.

"I don't give a fuck what he wants," Evelyn retorted with a sneer, beginning to pace furiously on the spot like a caged animal. "How do I stop him?"

"He has a dragon," Cole reminded her, and Cullen scoffed loudly.

"We know what he– ugh. The avalanches are the only thing slowing them down… there is one thing that we could do," Cullen said to her now, a grim expression on his face. "The last trebuchet. We could redirect it to the mountains behind us and set it loose."

Evelyn gave him a strange look, cocking her head to one side as she paced. "Cullen. That's suicide."

His brown eyes gave a sweep of the hall around them, then he took a step forward, taking her arm to halt her movement, and lowered his voice. "We're dying here," he admitted softly, his eyes almost pleading with her to catch his meaning. "But we can decide how. Many do not get that luxury."

Evelyn shook her head at his words, refusing to accept them. "No," she argued, snatching her arm back and beginning to pace again. "There has to be another way."

"There is," came Cole's voice from behind her. She turned and found the boy crouched down beside, as Evelyn now realized, a _dying_ Chancellor Roderick. The man that had insisted that Evelyn's head be on a pike this entire time. He rather reminded her of her father in a few ways. Seeing the blood staining the white robes the man wore, Evelyn's brow drew together, wondering how he got that way.

"He was hurt, fighting the templars to save townsfolk. He's going to die." Cole immediately answered her thought, and Evelyn's suspicion of the boy rose just a bit. It was eerie how he had picked up the exact question in her head at the exact moment she thought it.

"Charming boy," the chancellor bit out sarcastically, rolling his dark eyes. Evelyn couldn't help but to notice that the man was true to form, even on his way to the Maker.

"But he wants to tell you something before he does," Cole went on, apparently unaffected with the old man's wit.

The chancellor took a painful deep breath, his eyes closing with the action. "There is a path," he revealed. "I haven't thought about it in years, and no one that hasn't taken the summer pilgrimage would know it. It leads out of Haven and into the mountains. For so many to have died in the Conclave, and to be the only one alive that remembers… you could be more than I… it could be… more than an accident." He shifted, grunting in pain as he did so. "She must have shown me, Andraste must have… if you are truly chosen, if you're truly her Herald, then I've been a fool and I pray for you."

Evelyn gave the man a stiff nod, accepting his apology for what it was. If his idea gave them the escape they needed, his words against her meant less than nothing and Roderick would be a hero. Her green eyes shifted back to Cullen's astounded face. "Commander? Could you evacuate everyone through the path Roderick is talking about? After the town is evacuated, I could set loose the trebuchet and take this dragon and that… thing out with it."

Cullen gave a nod. "We'll need a distraction. And I could send a signal as soon as we're clear for you to set off the trebuchet… how would you follow, though?"

Evelyn swallowed hard, fighting the urge to glance at Sera, whom she knew was listening with her keen senses from across the way. She didn't answer Cullen, and he sighed, squinting hard at her.

"Perhaps there will be a way," he conceded, knowing she was well intent on giving up her life to save them all at least one more time. "I'll get everyone moving. But if we are to have a chance, if _you_ are to have a chance, let that thing hear you."

Evelyn gave him a salute that he returned, then steeled herself to go back out into the village. She didn't call her party to her, intending to go out alone, but she found them gathered near the door, regardless. She gave them all a surprised look, especially Dorian, whom she'd known the least amount of time, and from whom she had the feeling cared more his own– rather beautiful– ass than others. But this proved she had been wrong on that assumption, driving it in further when his friend Tyus called out to him from where the other mage was evacuating with the rest of Haven.

"Dorian, don't do this! These southerners will never thank you for it!" the big man called, his face pale with worry.

"I do not need thanks for doing what is right, Tyus!" Dorian called back.

Evelyn saw Cassandra's eyes cut to Dorian at his words, and the slight nod of acceptance she gave him. Evelyn knew that Cassandra had finally found in Dorian what she'd been looking for all along. It lessened the weight on her shoulders that there was trust being brokered in the Inner Circle, as she'd begun to think of the ones building the infrastructure of the Inquisition, herself included. Whomever became Inquisitor –Cassandra, Evelyn would guess– would have a strong support system in these individuals, and Evelyn was proud of it. They had all worked so hard to become something from literally nothing but a writ penned by a dead woman.

"If you're all going with me," Evelyn began slowly, fixing her eyes on every face in front of her in turn. "I need to know that you'll retreat if I tell you to."

No one said anything, and Sera had that look on her face that meant she was ready to argue with anything else the human rogue said. Evelyn gave an exasperated sigh. "Let's not make the death count higher than it is, guys. I appreciate the support but this has to be me. It doesn't have to be any of you."

"You have our word, Herald," Cassandra spoke up, and the rest nodded, even Sera, although reluctantly. The elf wouldn't meet her eyes.

Evelyn knew then that Sera had no intention of retreating when she was told.

Once they'd filed out into the darkness where the dragon still screamed in the distance, Evelyn grabbed Bull's wrist to get his attention as she eyed Sera walking ahead of her with Cassandra and Dorian. The big man stopped and looked down at her, and Evelyn gave him a beseeching look.

"Bull," she whispered dryly, feeling her heart break with the words she was going to say. "This is going to be bad. When I tell you to run, I want you to grab Sera and take her with you. She won't leave me by her own will, I know her. I need you to take her and carry her with you, okay?"

Bull gave a single nod. "I've got you, Boss. When you say the word, she's safe."

"Thank you, Bull," Evelyn sighed in relief.

"Anytime. Let's go kill some more of these assholes, then we'll have a cold one after the fight."

She smiled at his optimism. She needed a dose of it, and he knew it. It wasn't true, and they knew that, too. But it still felt good to try and believe it. "Sounds good, big man."

Fighting their way to the trebuchet was easy. The men and women they faced were so addled that they'd almost forgotten how to hold a sword, and Evelyn had a moment that almost let her believe that this would be as simple as fighting them off. She almost believed that they would easily be the victors and she wouldn't have to bury Haven to do it.

But then it appeared. It was massive, dwarfing Iron Bull by several feet in height and width, and it was made entirely from red lyrium. The hulking mass _couldn't_ have ever been a man, it was too completely lyrium, it was too monstrous.

_What the hell is the Elder One doing to these men?_

Chipping away at the behemoth while Evelyn fought to turn the trebuchet, her friends were just as disgusted as she was.

"This was a man once! A templar!" Cassandra shouted as she blocked blows from its massive fists.

"Are you bloody sure?" Sera yelled back from several yards away, loosing arrows like a machine. "Looks like he was carved right out of that shit!"

"Does it really matter?" Dorian added with a touch of spite to his voice, slinging his staff around himself with deadly purpose. "He is no longer a man, and he's content to see us dead. I'll see _him_ so first."

The moment that the colossus fell, that scream sounded again through the frigid dark, making every hair on Evelyn's body stand up straight with attention to the energy it manifested. And this time, the dragon's master had come to call. But Evelyn had already aimed the trebuchet.

_I'm ready for this, you sick fuck… I think I am, anyway._

"Run," she gasped for the second time that night, eyes locked onto the tall, slender figure behind the dragon. Everything in her wanted to turn tail and dash off in the opposite direction, but she knew she couldn't break. She couldn't falter. This was too important. Everyone's lives were hanging on her actions.

 _Sera's_ life was hanging on her actions.

"Bull!" she called out without looking at him. "Run! Go!"

Not even when she heard Sera's yell did she take her eyes off the creature slowly stalking towards her. "Put me _down_ , you lumpy bag o' muscles! I'm not leavin' her!"

"Sorry, little one, I'm under orders," Bull replied in his deep voice as he took off at a jog with the elf over his shoulder.

"What? _Evelyn!_ You double-crossin' _shit-ass!_ I'm gonna put an arrow up your arse!"

_Don't let her go. Take her as far away from this thing as possible. I don't want him anywhere near my family. I'm sorry, imp. I'm doing this because I love you… even if you may never know it._

Sera carried on as their voices faded with the distance growing between their retreat and Evelyn's solid ground, the young Trevelyan's chin tilting up defiantly when the thing was near. They stared at each other in silence, each sizing the other up. Then Evelyn's face broke out into a cocky grin.

_Keep it talking. Keep it occupied. I've got this._

"You're one _ugly_ motherfucker, do you know that?" she quipped, _enjoying_ the way its eyes narrowed and it's mouth pulled into a sneer. "You smell like the inside of a despair demon's ass, too, just so you know. A bath wouldn't kill you."

She did _not_ enjoy the way it swept one hand to the side and knocked the air from her lungs when she flew into the side of the trebuchet. White burst through her eyesight, a throbbing beginning at the back of her skull, and she groaned as she reached back to rub it. Before her vision cleared, she felt herself being snatched up by the front of her armor, and when she could see again, she was face to face with this thing.

"Pretender," it spat at her, and her nose wrinkled up with the onslaught of putrid air that assaulted her nostrils. "You toy with forces beyond your simple ken. No. More."

 _Why does this smell so familiar?_ Evelyn thought hard about what she'd experienced that smelled close to what she was facing now.

"Maker!" she choked, trying to tilt her face away while she fought against her gag reflex. "Your breath is worse than your arm pits, you dirty git!"

"You pander on about trivial mortal standards to cover your fear. You're afraid. Most mortals are. I was."

"Okay, okay, I give. Who are you, and what the hell do you want?"

He tossed her away from himself and she rolled across the frozen ground with a grunt of pain, but honestly she was just grateful to be away from his mouth. "Know me," he said softly. "Know that I am the answer that mortals seek. Know that I am the will that is Corypheus. You will kneel."

" _Who_ is going to kneel? The _fuck_ I will!" Evelyn snarled as she pushed herself to her feet, her temper starting to rise and overcome the fear she felt.

"You will resist. You will always resist. It matters not. I am here for the anchor. The process of removing it begins now." He lifted his hand, and Evelyn saw an orb clasped in his fingers crackle with red energy. The orb connected with her hand, and fire spread down her arm and into her chest. It was the most excruciating thing she'd ever felt from the mark.

She fell back to her knees, clutching her arm with her teeth bared, holding in the screams she wanted to give. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing how much this fucking hurt. But he kept talking, giving her something else to focus on while it felt as though her teeth would shatter before she could ever unlock her jaws again.

"You interrupted a ritual years in the making," he growled, eyes narrowed and the lyrium growing from his face flashing in the red light from the orb. "How you survived, I know not. The anchor that you flail at rifts to close them was meant to tear down the Veil and open the Fade to this world. The ritual was the beginning of making things right. And you used the anchor to undo my work… the _gall!_ "

"I NEVER WANTED THIS!" Evelyn screamed at him as a surge of energy went up her arm, then disappeared completely as Corypheus lowered the orb and the connection ended. The dragon almost cooed behind her, stepping that much closer as she conversed with its master. "But I was chosen for it," she bit out, shaking her head to try and clear her thoughts. "So I would know what it does!"

"It is meant to bring certainty where there is none. For you, the certainty that I would always come for it. I walked into the Fade thousands of years ago to see the gods for my own eyes and have suffered for it, only to rise again with the will to undo my mistake. I will bring Tevinter back to its glory, and I will reset this world to as it should be. I will give this world the god it requires. Pray that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the gods–and it was empty." He strode over to where she kneeled, clasping her arm, and jerked it out of her grasp, lifting her once more to be eye to eye.

"The anchor is permanent. You have spoiled it with your meddling. I will find another way into the Fade." He slung her against the trebuchet once more, and Evelyn did not waste time scrambling to her feet and grabbing the closest weapon to her, the daggers strapped to her back forgotten in the adrenaline. She raised a discarded sword as he and the beast slowly drew near.

"And you," he said with a tone of finality. "I will not suffer even an unknowing foe. You must die." Energy began to build in its hand once more, and Evelyn eyed the rope that would loose the rocks in the bucket above her head.

_For Sera. For Cass. For Leliana. For the Inquisition._

"You're an arrogant piece of shit _darkspawn._ " The realization of what he was claiming hit Evelyn just as she opened her mouth to speak. He was claiming to be one of the magisters that breached the Fade in their physical form, therefore having the Maker turn his back on the world and thus creating the first darkspawn… one of which she now faced in the flesh. Or lyrium. "You won't win this today! Not to- _fucking_ -day!"

And, almost like they could hear her words, the signal that everyone was clear of the avalanche danger zone flew into the sky in the form of a mage's fireball.

"You expect me to fight you," Evelyn laughed somewhat arrogantly, somewhat crazed. "But that's not why I kept you talking. Enjoy your victory, darkspawn. Here's your fucking prize!" She let the sword swing and cut the rope, then took no time to watch the rocks fly.

She took off running in the opposite direction, the only thought in her head now that she at least owed it to Sera to _try_ and outrun the oncoming white death. But the shadow of the dragon flying overhead told her that he had escaped. She didn't slow down, but she tripped on a random piece of wood, and then fell.

Everything went dark.

* * *

**The Frostbacks**

"You let me go back right friggin' now!"

Sera had never been so fucking mad. She was alight with an ire that she didn't know she possessed until that backstabbing assassin had Bull drag her away from the fight. They had caught up with the rest of village fleeing into the mountains fairly quickly, even with her added weight on Bull's shoulder. When they'd cleared the tree line, Cullen had Dorian send a fireball into the night sky to signal that they were safe. A split second later, the entire mountain went down on Haven, burying it completely, the Herald with it.

And Sera had snapped.

"How could you just _leave_ her there?!" she was screaming at Bull and Cass. Both warriors had the audacity to look sad and ashamed, but that only fueled the archer's fire. "She's your friend! She's saved your asses over and over, and you all just left her there to die!" Tears were gathering over her eyes, but she did not let them fall. "She could have survived, yeah? She could be hurt, waiting on someone to come!"

"Sera," Cassandra said sadly, looking back towards the now invisible village. "I–it is… Unlikely."

Sera finally twisted in such a way that Bull's grip loosened just enough for her to squeeze out of it, landing on her feet with a death glare on her face. "No," she said accusingly, pointing a finger at the older woman. "No, you don't get to say that. She's Shiny, yeah? That's what she does. She does _stupid_ , selfless shit, and then she comes back alive!"

"We'll make a camp," Cullen cut in. "We'll make a camp, then we will organize search parties. If she's out there, we'll find her."

" _Thank you."_ The gratitude was palpable coming from the elf, and she shot one more disgusted look to Cassandra and Bull. "At least _someone_ cares."

"Hey!" Bull said loudly, having enough of her shit. "I was told to grab you and run when she gave the order. I did as I was told. So you can calm down that blame you're throwing at me right now. I care enough about her that I listened to what she had to say before we left the Chantry."

"Agreed," Cassandra gruffed, shaking her head. "It was deplorable, but it was what she asked. She did not want to watch us die again, or do you not remember how it affected her before?"

Sera bit the inside of her cheek, holding back the barrage of choice words she felt like hurdling at the pair. But a moment of thought on the Seeker's reminder made her deflate just a bit. "Whatever," she mumbled miserably, pushing past them and stalking forward. "Let's just get the camp made so we can go look for her. She's out there. I know it."

* * *

**Ruins of Haven**

"We're too late." Hawke stood in shock at the sight before her. Haven was gone. It was almost as if it had never existed, save for some splintered wood and stone rubble on the highest point. Those rumbles they'd felt on their way around the mountain road were avalanches. She saw the remnants of flames, could smell the blood lingering in the air, but the snow covered most of the debris left from the assault. "The templars attacked."

"No," came a groan of despair from behind her. "No. No. It can't be. We have to look for survivors, she can't be—" Ellen's voice choked off in a strangled sob.

Hawke felt her chest constrict for the young mage. She knew what it felt like to lose a sibling. But Bethany knew what it was like to lose a twin.

"El," came her sister's voice in a soothing tone. "Calm down. Tell me if you feel like you're physically sick."

"What do you mean?" Ellen asked Beth, and Hawke closed her eyes.

Bethany had not been well for several weeks after Carver died. It had gotten so bad that Hawke had almost resigned herself to the fact that she was going to lose Bethany, as well.

"When Carver died, I… it wasn't pleasant for me. And assuming that because you're not on your hands and knees puking your guts up, I think she's okay," Bethany said to Ellen gently, pulling the girl into her arms. "Your twin lives on, love."

"Okay," Ellen gasped, eyes still locked onto the smoldering sight before them.

Stickers walked in front of Hawke, the slender elf's shoulders sagging a bit. "I hoped we could make it here first," she sighed. "I wanted to warn them."

"We saw no sign of the army while in route," Redow growled. "How could they have gotten here so quickly?"

"Corypheus is powerful," Hawke murmured, shaking her head. It was her fault. She'd killed him, but he hadn't died. She was sure she'd ended him. She and Varric had left him there, full of stab wounds and bolts, and the bastard had lived. Maybe that's why the Grey Wardens had imprisoned him in the first place. Perhaps they knew he couldn't be killed.

A hand sliding into hers brought her out of the memories of seeing him lying dead in that prison the Wardens had built. She looked up from the ground to meet Isabela's warm gaze. Her eyes told her everything her mouth wouldn't say in front of a group of people. "Stop blaming yourself for everything, sweetness," they told her.

"He was dead," she whispered to the pirate now, who squeezed her fingers in silent response.

"I'll take wing to the skies to see if I can spot anything," Dora offered, stepping forward. "If there are survivors, I'll see them. But I have to do it quickly, because there's a storm coming. The winds are getting fierce."

Hawke gave a nod, still subdued with the knowledge they'd gathered. She didn't flinch when the Dalish woman immediately shed her robes, baring every line of vallaslin that covered her now nude body, then jumped into the air. The sound of wings fluttering was lost in the rising gale.

"Oi," Watcher grumbled, the big qunari shifting uncomfortably. "Why can't she do that in her clothes?"

"I'm not complaining," Stickers chuckled, earning a warning look from Redow. "What? Pretty is pretty, and by the look of that blush on Merrill's face, I'm not the only one that noticed."

"What?" Merrill said distractedly, eyes up at the dark sky. "I heard my name."

Hawke shook her head. She could see that Merrill was enthralled with Dora, anyone with eyes could see it. But it worried Hawke, knowing that Dora knew what she knew about Merrill. It worried her that the shapeshifter could end up using it against them all, especially against her sweet friend. Hawke would make the woman a splatter on the ground if that happened.

"We should make camp," Isabela said in an authoritive tone, her captaincy shining through. "Even if she finds something worth following, we won't be able to do it tonight. We can tie down the tent, and all hop in for a party just to keep warm. Maybe even have a hanky panky party, if anyone's interested." She shot a wink at Stickers, who started laughing at the suggestion.

"Bela, don't be weird," Bethany chastised her, giving her a withering look as she comforted Ellen. "Don't forget that we just walked into tragedy."

"Oh, I haven't forgotten, sweet Beth," Isabela replied with a cheeky grin. "But all the more reason for more… _pleasurable_ distraction."

"I want our own tent," Ellen sniffed from Bethany's robes. "I'm not suffering through Isabela's brand of torment tonight. I can't."

Hawke gave an exasperated sigh. "You're not getting your own tent tonight. You'd freeze. Bela will behave for once in her life."

"Oh, Hawke," Isabela groaned playfully. "Sucking out all my bloody fun."

The eight of them threw together a somewhat solid camp, using the broken trees and rope from their packs. They managed to build a tent that had a chimney hole, and built a small fire inside of it, lining bedrolls around it but close together. They were crowded into it and settling down in their rolls when Isabela gave a hard sniff, making a face in disgust. She lifted her arm and sniffed again, much to Hawke's amusement, because Hawke knew exactly what the pirate was going to ask before she'd said a word.

"Do I smell?" she asked Hawke, who chuckled at the predictability. "Do I need a bath?"

"No," Watcher answered before Hawke could. "That's definitely Redow that you smell."

Seven faces turned towards the Avvar woman, who looked back at them all defiantly. "What? I bathed right before we made it to Jader," she said defensively, causing a sigh to come from Stickers.

"That was nearly a month ago," the elf reminded her weakly. This must have been an ongoing argument between the two. "I'm so accustomed to your stench that I barely notice, anymore."

The Avvar elbowed Stickers with a sly grin. "You like my stench."

Stickers rolled her dark eyes, but a slight grin tugged on the corner of her mouth. "Maybe," she allowed, accepting the nip Redow gave her ear.

"Maker's balls, I don't see _how_ ," Isabela complained, obnoxiously waving her hand in front of her face. "You could skin a cat with a smell like that."

"That's funny," Merrill commented idly, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them. "When the ship smells like fish and man sweat, and you never complain."

"I'm used to fish and man sweat, Kitten. This one smells like she's gone and rolled in dead shit."

"She probably has," Watcher agreed with a nod of his horned head. "She thinks it brings her glory from her gods."

"The Lady of the Skies shows me the offerings, and I use the rest of their strength from their corpse," Redow argued, and Hawke felt her eyes widen.

_Maker, these three are something else. I thought my family was strange. But we're positively normal in comparison._

"We're lucky if she doesn't eat it, too," Stickers yawned, leaning back on her bedroll beside her wild woman.

Hawke's jaw dropped, a shudder running through her at the thought of kissing a mouth that had just ingested rotted meat. She wasn't going to comment, but Isabela would always be the mouth-piece when Hawke was trying to be polite.

" _And you let her put her tongue in your mouth?"_ The pirate practically squealed, turning a fine shade of green. It seemed that the older she got, the weaker her stomach became for such things.

"I let her put her tongue wherever she wants," Stickers shot back smugly, and the entire tent retched in unison. Stickers rolled her eyes at the reaction. "I make her rinse her mouth out, Maker's balls. I'm not dim."

A particularly strong gust of wind slammed against one side of the tent, and Merrill gave a shudder when the cold air went up her spine. "I hope Dora is all right in this wind," she said worriedly. "Birds nest for these sort of winds, don't they?"

"I'm sure she's fine, Merrill," Hawke reassured her. The woman seemed resourceful and smart enough to know her limitations.

"It's been almost two hours," Ellen murmured from Bethany's shoulder where the storm mage had taken refuge.

"She's fine," Hawke said again, more firmly this time. She didn't need Merrill and Ellen feeding into each others' fears, and driving themselves into panic attacks.

"There's a storm, love," Bethany said to Ellen softly as she brought a hand up to begin running her fingers through the mop of chestnut hair on her fiancee's head. "Impeded progress, I'm sure of it."

Hawke gave Bethany a grateful look for keeping Ellen calm while they waited to hear word back, and Bethany gave her a small, sad smile in return. Her sister had truly found her other half, and was well suited for the role of being a wife. It made Hawke happy and sad all at once, noting the passage of time as it was. She had been feeling her own mortality more and more as the days became weeks, weeks became months, and the months turned into years.

She looked over at Isabela now, the pirate's attention on the small fire before them. The marauder's face had thinned in the years they'd spent by each other's side, laugh lines had appeared around her pretty mouth, crow's feet at the corners of her amber eyes. She vividly remembered the days before those lines existed on her lover's beautiful face, and she wondered now if her own face carried such marks of wisdom. Her scar across her nose was ever present, she could feel it as she could always feel it since the day Carver had left it there with a sword during one particularly nasty argument. Her father had done his best to heal it, but the stubborn mark had become something of a telltale of who she was. No matter how long he'd been gone, she carried a piece of that moody bastard in her heart and reminder of his temper on her face. Hawke wouldn't have traded that scar for the world.

A loud howl ripped through the sound of the wind, catching everyone's attention. It sounded like the wolf was right outside the tent. Redow immediately reached for her ax behind her, but Merrill held out a hand to still her movements.

"Dora?" she called out to the animal, and Hawke remembered that Dora could indeed shift into a wolf's skin. Several low yelps answered Merrill's call, and the wolf scratched at the tent flap.

"Let her in," Hawke said to Watcher, who was closest to the entrance. The qunari twisted around, fiddling with the ties on the flap, and then a brownish-red snout nosed past it to squeeze a sleek furry form inside with them.

"Don't shake off!" Isabela said quickly, flinching when the wolf made to shake the snow and water from its thick coat. Green eyes stared at her reproachfully, but she huffed and slunk past them to where Merrill sat, holding open Dora's shed robes.

A moment later, a drenched elf was wrapping herself in them, shivering hard. "Now I'm going to have to sleep soaking wet," Dora grumbled, running her fingers through her wet hair.

"What did you find?" Ellen asked, leaning around Bethany to see Dora give a slight nod.

"The majority of the village must have evacuated. There's a large camp about two miles north, settled between two peaks and protected from this mess outside. There is a search party of about five people looking for someone, most likely the Herald. I saw no glowing hands on any of the people gathered, but then again I didn't come out of the cover of trees. I didn't want to be attacked, and I couldn't take wing again because of the wind."

Ellen's face crumpled, and her head fell forward against her chest as her shoulders slumped. "She didn't make it out," she whispered, and Hawke felt like it was more to herself than to any of them. "I was so close." Her eyes closed and a tear slid free, and all of a sudden Hawke felt uncomfortable. She'd never seen Ellen cry, and she didn't like it.

"Ellen," Bethany sighed, turning her face to press a kiss to Trevelyan's forehead. "All hope isn't lost. They're searching, that means there's a chance."

Dora nodded in agreement, rubbing her hands together before the fire. "There was a flat ear leading them, a very vocal one, at that. The tone of her voice told me she is close to the Herald. If she's out there, then that elf will find her, don't worry."

* * *

**The Frostbacks**

Sera snuggled closer to the unconscious woman beside her, pulling her further against herself and ignoring the coldness of her skin. She was just happy that they'd found Evelyn alive, even if she was face down in the snow.

They'd brought her back to camp and into a private tent, stripping the Herald out of her beat up and bloody armor. Sera's heart was in her throat that some of the blood belonged to the assassin. But as the armor came away and clean under clothes came into view, she had allowed herself to breathe as Solas searched the Herald's body for physical contusions. He'd found no open wounds, but there was severe bruising. He suggested a fire and body heat as a means against the hypothermia that could set in, and ordered rest for the Herald's obvious exhaustion and strain. The moment the bald elf had vacated the tent, Mother Giselle had helped Sera adjust the human rogue in the cot, and then the older woman had left Sera alone with her lover to strip and huddle beneath heavy pelts with her.

Now the thief was watching Evelyn's pale face, peaceful in slumber, and counting her blessings that the woman had actually survived.

_She really is the friggin' Herald of Andraste. She's gotta be. Who else could have made it out of that shit with their arse still in their skin?_

She leaned her forehead against Evelyn's, closed her eyes and swallowed hard. She'd been afraid before, but never like _that_. She had never felt like the entire world was coming apart at the seams, even when the breach had appeared in the sky. That had been scary, but it was nothing like Evelyn not being near her and not knowing if she was alive. That had taken the very breath from her lungs and made it so that she couldn't draw another to expand them once again.

If the swelling beneath her breastbone that occurred when they frigged –or whenever Evelyn even looked at her, really– wasn't enough to tell her… this desperation to have her alive and beside her told it all. Sera hadn't ever given love much thought outside of the books she'd read on the subject. For her, it had always been "Oh, I like her, she's a laugh, she's pretty enough, I'm gonna frig her."

And perhaps that was how it _started_ with Evelyn.

_But now?_

Now she knew the steps of the dance that played in those ethereal eyes, knew the way she had to balance and counterbalance with the ebb and flow of the human's lead. She knew that was more to Evelyn than her pretty face and the shiny hand. There was a certain softness to the hardened assassin, a softer part that few people outside the Inner Circle got to even glimpse. And Sera knew without a doubt that she'd seen pieces of her lover that no one alive had witnessed. She thought about the fondness in Evelyn's eyes when she looked at her, focused on her like the rest of the world wasn't even there, didn't exist.

 _Better not look at anyone else like that. That's_ my _look._

Sera opened her eyes as Evelyn shifted for the first time beside her, her eyebrows knitting together in her sleep, her bottom lip poking out in an adorable pout that Sera immediately wanted to kiss off her face. That full feeling blossomed inside her again at the thought, and the archer grinned.

"Shiny?" she whispered, wondering if the woman was waking. When no response but Evelyn's steady breath came, Sera placed a light kiss on the assassin's cheek.

 _I think I love her. No. Balls, I really_ do _love her. I love Evelyn Trevelyan. Daft, innit?_

But a few minutes later when Evelyn stirred again, and this time opened her bright green eyes and smiled softly at the sight of her elven lover, that feeling hit Sera again like a bronto in full charge. She was kissing Evelyn before the Herald could even speak, squeezing her around the waist to hold her as close as she could.

 _Not daft,_ Sera thought to herself as Evelyn returned the kisses with enthusiasm. _It's friggin' grand._

* * *

**The Frostbacks, one day later**

Evelyn was lying on the cot in her tent, kept company by Mother Giselle as Sera was out with a hunting party. She had tried to nap on and off all day, but the sound of her advisors screaming at each other had been a constant reminder that there was no true rest for her to be had. Her entire body hurt, despite the lack of cuts. She felt like a walking bruise, and one that could sleep for a century, if only the four adults carrying on like toddlers would shut the hell up. Cullen and Cassandra were the loudest, but Leliana had raised her voice several times in defense of Josephine, who had tried to be as diplomatic and calm as she could through the chaos, much to Cullen's distaste. Evelyn had to hand it to the man: he was as passionate as they came.

All of them had their own valid points, and were arguing in circles. It was starting to give Evelyn a headache right at sunset. She realized that people were scared, and cold. She realized that their entire lives had been buried beneath a mountain of snow after being scorched by an archdemon. She realized that the Inquisition was homeless, and that there was an entire organization hanging on the hinges of what their Herald decided to do.

What _she_ decided to do.

Evelyn gave a heavy sigh, and pushed herself up into a sitting position, her boots touching the frozen ground. Mother Giselle stood and came to her side, lying a caring hand on her forehead to check for a fever that wasn't there. "You should rest, child," she said in her Orlesian accent, giving the Herald a soft look.

"They've been at each other's throats all day," Evelyn sighed guiltily, looking out of the open flap to where her advisors all stood in a stony silence, not looking at one another. "I should do something."

Mother Giselle shook her head in disagreement. "True, they have been rather rough with one another, but it is thanks to you that they even have the luxury." She made a gesture at them with a single dark-skinned hand. "There is a fear in the unknown, and fear breeds anger. With our enemy invisible, they turn the anger onto themselves and each other. Another voice raised will not help, even yours. Maybe especially yours."

Evelyn bit her lip and absorbed the old woman's wisdom. "I'm tired, Mother Giselle," she admitted in almost a whisper. "After what Corypheus said, I'm not sure about anything, anymore. What little faith I had has been shaken."

"If what he says is true," Mother Giselle began slowly, "it would only strengthen my own faith. He is shunned; cast back out into this world a twisted and tortured being for his punishment. His own faith was shattered by what he claims to have witnessed. He builds himself to be what he feels is missing. But that does not make him right."

She watched Evelyn get to her feet and cross the tent to lean on the pole near the front. "Faith is believing even when there is no proof," the old woman intoned from behind her. "These people saw their Herald stand against an evil, fall, and then rise again. The further the enemy is from us, the more miraculous your actions appear. The more our trials seem ordained." She paused, but Evelyn did not turn to look at her or make a motion to answer her, so she continued on. "That is hard to accept, no? What we have been called to endure? What we must come to believe?"

"I fell into an old mine," Evelyn disagreed with a single shake of her head and a light scoff. "I was hurt, but I didn't die."

"A mine that no one knew ran beneath Haven," the Chantry woman reminded her pointedly. "A mine that seemingly appeared from nowhere. The dead cannot return from across the Veil, but the people know what they saw… or perhaps what they _needed_ to see. The Maker works in both the moment–say, by placing a mine where there was never one–and in how it is remembered. Can we truly know the Heavens are not with us?"

Evelyn had no rebuttal. The mine had not been marked on any map, and Cullen had been stymied when Evelyn had recounted the events to them the night before. "When this all began, I looked at it like it was an accident," Evelyn said lowly, looking down at her hand shining into the coming night. "But when I was looking an ancient magister darkspawn in the eyes, I realized that I no longer feel as such. I believe in my heart that I was meant for this, Mother. But that did not save Haven. I want to believe that Andraste is with me, but…." Her voice trailed off as she looked back up at the four people that had done nothing but fight all day.

"But doubt is everywhere," Mother Giselle finished for her accurately, coming to her shoulder and sharing her view of the advisors.

Josephine and Leliana sat close together at one fire, Josie scratching the back of her head in an unfamiliar nervousness, and Leliana sitting on the ground with her knees pulled beneath her chin. Cullen paced several yards away, his hands on his hips, shaking his head in dismay while clearly muttering to himself. Cassandra leaned over the maps thrown onto a makeshift table, her face tilted down, but the tension in her shoulders belied the stress the Seeker was under.

 _Maker, Andraste… please, guide me. If I'm truly meant for this, please send me a sign. I need you both._ The helplessness had come over Evelyn like a death shroud, heavy and oppressing, dank and scratchy. And she was out of ideas.

"Shadows fall," a voice sang out from behind her, and she looked over her shoulder to see the Chantry woman step forward with her hands clasped together in a prayer, eyes closed. "And hope has fled. Steel your heart, the dawn will come. The night is long, and the path is dark. Look to the sky, for one day soon the dawn will come."

Evelyn knew the hymn. It was one of her favorites from childhood. It was one she would hum under her breath to calm herself after a beating or embarrassment from her father. The one she sang to Ellen to put her to sleep some nights when their father would beat them both. The one she sang the day the templars took her sister from her. The one she would still hum to herself sometimes as an adult to calm her fears and make herself breathe when things became too much.

Was it coincidence that the Mother chose this particular hymn? Was this the sign she had literally just prayed for?

A sweet soprano reached her ears when the next verse began, and Evelyn whipped her head around to see that the beautiful sound was coming from someone she never would have thought to hear singing. Leliana had lifted her head and joined in Mother Giselle's song, and her eyes were only trained on Evelyn. There was a light in them that the younger rogue had seen before when Leliana came to a great realization, and her voice carried on the air like the call of a nightingale indeed.

And she wasn't the only one.

One by one, the villagers and soldiers all leant their voices to lift Mother Giselle's, gathering before Evelyn into a choir, taking bended knee at her feet while never missing a note of the hymn. Evelyn's muscles had contracted so tightly that she was incapable of moving, her eyes misting over with the torrent of feelings inside of herself. She was still struggling over whether or not this was coincidence when the hymn ended, and she nodded stiffly to the slight crowd before her. She felt put on the spot, unsure if she should say anything or just remain silent, awkwardly standing there while people bent a knee to her that she didn't ask for.

_Maker, this isn't what I had in mind. Be careful what I wish for, right?_

Her salvation came in the form of a bald elven mage. Solas suddenly appeared on her right, leaning into her ear to request her company privately. She jerked out of her frozen state at the sound of his voice, turning around and following the man into the night. He stopped at a dead torch light on the outskirts of camp, waving his hand over it and lighting it with blue fire. He went on to explain that the orb Corypheus possessed was of elven origin, a focal point for powerful spells, an ancient artifact.

"How in the hell did he get that?" Evelyn wondered rhetorically, scoffing to herself.

"Likely such a thing would be well hidden, and warded. He certainly would have gone through an amount of difficulty obtaining it," Solas replied, leaning his weight onto his staff.

"Anything else you need to tell me?" she asked, and Solas gave her a smile.

"Oh, yes."

And that was the beginning of the trip to Skyhold.

* * *

**Skyhold, three days later**

Sera squinted out of the door and into the sun where Leliana and Cassandra had pulled Shiny up onto the stairs to the large central building in the castle structure. They'd called for Evelyn right when there were some really sweet kisses going on away from prying eyes, and her lover had only left her in the room reluctantly as she exited into the lower courtyard.

There was a bit of shouting going on, but the good kind, the kind without fighting. Sera looked around and saw several swords drawn and raised into the air, and realized with a jolt that the assassin was one of them. And she was saying words, too.

"Corypheus knows not what he faces! We will see him fall!" Evelyn yelled over the general roar of the crowd gathered around the elf as she witnessed something she knew was important, but she'd missed the first half of that just composing herself enough to follow Evelyn outside.

The crowd grew louder with her declaration, and Sera winced at the volume in her sensitive ears. "Bloody hell," she mumbled to herself. "What have you gone and done now, Shiny?"

Then she heard it in an excited whisper somewhere ahead of her, "Inquisitor! We finally have an Inquisitor!"

_Wait, wait, wait. Waaaaait. Inquisitor? Shiny? She's already the Herald of friggin' Andraste, that's enough, innit?_

Inquisitor was important. Like, really big hat sort of shit. The kind of big hat shit that came with attention and power and money, things that Sera knew for a fact changed people, and never for anything better. The thought of the title falling onto her Shiny made her feel uneasy, that unknowing gut feeling that gnaws inside. Sera was used to the Shiny Handed Herald thing, the noble arse biscuit thing, the feeling sorry for mages thing, and the stabbing people for money thing. She frowned at that thought, noting to herself that was a small _list_ of "things" that she and Shiny bumped tempers about in the span of their relationship.

 _Sheesh, this is loony. She's lucky she's pretty to look at._ As if the woman had heard her thought, green eyes found hers across the courtyard, and she gave Sera that reassuring grin, like she had it all under control, but the thief knew better. Evelyn was flipping her shit inside, probably wondering why the hell she ended up in this situation, same as the elf herself. She allowed herself a chuckle, giving a smile back to the insufferable now-Inquisitor Trevelyan.

* * *

**Outside Skyhold**

"I have the summons from Master Tethras right here," Hawke said smoothly, hitching her makeshift coat up further onto her shoulders. She fished around in the front pocket of her pack, pulling the crinkled vellum free and opening it for the guard at the base of the bridge before them.

It had been sheer fucking luck that they had stumbled upon that dead bird with that message still attached to its foot. Varric had managed to get off a message right before or during the attack. It was short and sloppily written, and went straight to the point: "Corypheus is alive. We need you. -T"

They had followed the Inquisition's trail straight to the castle, an imposingly beautiful thing set far into the Frostbacks and probably not on any map to date. But surely that was about to change. The Inquisition had grown, and had spilled into the icy valley below the castle, civilians building tents in the sense of community, hope refreshed by the discovery of the castle, a new home.

"Let me see that," the guard said now, taking the message from Hawke and pulling it closer to his eyes. He lowered it and handed it back to Hawke, turning around barking off an order for someone to go up and fetch Varric Tethras. "Wait over there until he comes, I have refugees to attend to."

"Of course," Hawke said with a nod. She gestured for the rest of her crew to follow and led them off to the side of the queue that was built up in front of the lift to the bridge.

"If he doesn't show up soon, I'm going to start screaming that I'm the Herald's sister just to get in the fucking door," Ellen grumbled, slinging her pack off her back and letting it hit the ice. "Now that I know she's alive, I kind of want to give her a little jolt for scaring the piss out of me."

"You'll get your chance," Hawke assured her. "He'll come. He knows I'd be here."

"What if they don't even bother to tell him?" Ellen demanded, hands on her hips. "They're obviously over tasked and irritated, so who's to say they truly bother?"

"Give them a chance, El," Bethany chimed in, laying a hand on Ellen's back. "We will get in somehow. You're so close to seeing her again, don't lose ground by being too brash."

Ellen gave a jerky nod, heaved a giant sigh, and just plopped down onto the wet ground. Hawke felt for her, knowing too well how it felt to be on the other side of a wall from your sister that you hadn't seen in too long. She also knew the impatience of awaiting the inevitable meeting, itching just to see them again. Once again, she gave silent thanks to the Maker that Bethany was able to calm the temper Trevelyan held. Hawke knew deep down that despite the control mages exuded outwardly, the struggle within themselves was a very real thing. She had witnessed it with Bethany in her formative years, and as much as she hated to admit it, she knew the Circle had played a significant part in calming Bethany's inner demons. Now she was witnessing her sister implement her experience with her younger lover, gently comforting and coaching without embarrassing Ellen.

"I know one thing is for sure," Isabela grunted from beside her. "If there isn't a hot bath and a stiff drink in this place, I'm going to riot."

"I wouldn't get my hopes up," Hawke answered her, casting her gaze up the massive castle again. "They've only been here for two days. I doubt they've had time to set up the luxuries."

"I'd call them necessities, honestly," Isabela sighed, placing her hands on her lower back and leaning backwards to pop her spine. "I mean, what kind of army doesn't have a good bar for soldier morale?"

"It doesn't matter, we won't be here for long. I have to meet Stroud in Crestwood after I speak with the Herald." Hawke wiped a sleeve under her nose, sniffling against the snot threatening to trickle out. She hated to think she was getting sick, but she had a feeling that her runny nose was just the start.

"Not if you're coming down with something, we aren't," Isabela disagreed, shaking her head at Hawke and giving her a calculating look. "You look a bit peaky, sweetness."

"I'm fine," Hawke argued wearily. "I just need some sleep. We need to get to him before the Order does. I don't know what the hell Clarel is doing, but I don't trust the Orlesian Wardens very much right now. If a man like Stroud is hiding from them, something isn't right."

"Hey!"

The shout came from across the way, and the six of them standing there all turned to see Stickers waving at them as she, Redow, and Watcher grouped with other armed people being led away by soldiers in Inquisition garb. "We're signing up! It was nice knowing you, stay out of trouble."

"Thanks for everything, Stickers! The next time we meet, we'll both be stinking rich and we can have that party we talked about!" Isabela yelled back, waving merrily.

Hawke gave her own wave, slightly sad that the three would be splitting from them now that they had reached their mutual destination. They were odd, sure. They had a qunari archer with them that acted like an elf, having been raised in an alienage by an elven family, for Andraste's sake. But they were a good company, and the Inquisition would be a good fit for Redow's bloodlust.

"Holding you to that, Captain!" the scarred elf called back with one last wave, then she turned and followed the rest of them onto the lift.

"We could have posed as a mercenary company and gotten in faster," Dora muttered, watching as the group went up the lift shaft. "They took them right in."

"Yeah, but we have a purpose that posing would have only impeded," Ellen replied, eyes still fixated on the old stones before them. "We have to be able to walk freely once inside."

"Exactly," Hawke agreed with her future sister-in-law. "If we'd gone in as soldiers, we'd be touring barracks for the rest of the day, and causing trouble by breaking away from the group to find the people we need to speak to. It's better this way."

Isabela gave her a sideways grin with a look to match. "Just admit it. We're too old to play pretend with the good little foot soldiers anymore."

Hawke gave a dry laugh. "Yeah, that, too. I should save my strength for if that Seeker bears down on me for questioning."

"I just want to see Evelyn," Ellen said in an exasperated tone. "Being this close to her is driving me mad."

"We want to see Evelyn, too," Isabela teased with a devious grin. "See _all_ of her, might I add."

"Bela, please," Ellen groaned, covering her face. "This isn't the time for your games."

"I'm not playing games, lark. I am deadly serious. You'll see," the pirate promised in a low purr, delighting in the way the tops of Ellen's ears turned bright red.

Bethany rolled her eyes at Isabela and made some sarcastic remark, but Hawke wasn't focused on whatever jibe her sister was giving Isabela. She was watching Ellen. The mage's facial expression had contorted and straightened itself out several times, and Hawke could almost feel the static electricity emanating from Trevelyan's skinny frame beneath her drenched robes. A sense of apprehension ran through her, and she reached over to take Isabela's wrist in hand, giving it a light squeeze.

"Bela," she said quietly, calmly, not taking her eyes off her sister's lover that had begun to slightly shake on the ground. "Bela, that's enough for now. Stop."

"What?" Isabela demanded defensively, not noticing for herself that Ellen seemed to be losing her shit right in front of them. "You've said it yourself, holy sacrilege and all that rot—"

"Bela," Hawke said again, this time pointedly, willing her incessant other half to look where she was focused. "Let it go." Still without looking away, she addressed Bethany just as quietly. "Beth, you and Ellen should take a walk."

Bethany's face blanched, and she looked down in front of her at Ellen, concern beginning to etch over her expression. "You all right, love?"

"Bloody fucking fantastic," Ellen growled back, eyes shooting daggers at Isabela. "My favorite hobby is listening to her bleat on about fucking my sister for months on end."

Isabela opened her mouth to reply, but Hawke didn't give her a chance, pulling her away without a second thought. She marched them away from their group, stopping only when she knew they wouldn't be overheard. She didn't speak at first, only giving Isabela a look like "What the fuck was that?"

"You know I'm only half serious," Isabela said to the look, misinterpreting it as jealousy. "I'd only sleep with her if you did."

"That's not what I mean," Hawke said fiercely, lowering her face to look the pirate in the eyes. "She was losing her shit. She's a young mage that has been through hell for the past few months, and right now she's on an emotional high tide with repressed childhood bullshit. I think you forget that sometimes when you needle her. If her emotions get the better of her, we gain an abomination and lose a friend, not to mention the love of my sister's life. So take it down a few notches, let the girl breathe."

Isabela clucked her tongue in disappointment, lightly scowling. "It's so fun, though, and being on the road is so boring."

"So boring you'd risk pissing off a mage and force her into bursting into an abomination?" Hawke deadpanned, staring at Isabela hard, eyes daring her to counter that statement in any way.

Amber eyes narrowed, her mouth opened, a finger came up to make some grand point to win the discussion, and… nothing. The woman had nothing to say to argue for once in her life. "Shit," she muttered after a few seconds, deflating and dropping her hand to her hip. "I've got nothing. I'll leave the kid alone."

"Thought as much," Hawke gloated with a smirk, leaning forward to press a kiss to the corner of Isabela's mouth. "Just give it a bit longer, we'll have all the action we could want."

Isabela raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at one side of her face as she looked Hawke up and down slowly. "In bed, or out?" she asked in a sultry tone, raising a single finger to trace Hawke's jaw.

"Both," Hawke answered honestly, taking a step forward so their fronts touched. "Maybe one sooner than later."

Isabela dropped her hand to front of the makeshift coat and pulled them even closer together. She tilted her face up, moving in as if to kiss her, but merely ran her lips over Hawke's, teasing. "Promises, promises," she whispered against her mouth.

Hawke couldn't stop the kiss that followed if she wanted to, and she didn't. They'd never been shy about public affection, despite whatever sort of attention it brought. Even right now in the midst of refugees and soldiers, they were full tongue without a lick of shame.

"Some things never change, I see," a familiar voice said in an amused tone.

They pulled apart so quickly they both nearly fell backwards, but they didn't even pay any mind to that fact when their eyes fell on Varric chuckling merrily at them. "Varric!" Hawke yelled happily, surging forward and hugging the much shorter man.

"Wow, not even a minute has passed and you're already shoving my face in your tits," he complained, hugging her back then letting go and stepping back to accept the bone crushing hug that Isabela gave him next. "That goes double for you, Rivaini, seeing as how you've got so much more tit."

"Wow, not even a minute passed and you're reminding me how flat-chested I am. You never lose an ounce of charm, do you know that?" Hawke laughed, taking a good look at him.

"Still furry," Isabela said with a smile, eyes only on the curls escaping the open buttons of his shirt.

"Eyes up here, Rivaini," he chided her jokingly, and Hawke felt a nostalgia come over her. It was just like old times when the three of them were together, and it made her wonder about Aveline, Fenris, and even Anders.

"VARRIC!" The loudest squeal that ever sounded in Thedas made the three of them flinch, then Hawke felt herself flying when Merrill shot past her, shoving her out of her path to Varric. The elf pulled him into the tightest hug yet.

"Daisy!" he choked out jovially, patting her on the back as he hugged her back. "Careful, I can't breathe!"

"Neither can I!" Merrill trilled, not catching his meaning and squeezing him even tighter. "I'm just so happy to see you!"

"You're killing him, Kitten," Isabela laughed. "Love him a little gentler."

Merrill let go immediately, straighten out and blushing profusely. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she chirped. "I just get carried away sometimes."

"We know," Bethany sighed fondly, stepping forward to give Varric a light hug so as not to cripple him further as he tried to catch his breath after Merrill. "It's so good to see you," she told him, and he nodded to her.

"Same to you, Sunshine." His eyes found Ellen standing awkwardly behind Bethany, and he gave her nod, too. "Hey there, Stormy," he called, and Ellen gave him a small smile and wave. "There's, uh, someone up there that's gonna wanna see you."

"There's someone up there I want to see, too," Ellen answered. "Could you bring me to her?"

Varric scratched his head, looking a tad uncomfortable. "Well, she's a little busy right now. They just finished a big thing up there, the Seeker and the Sister made Sharps–the Herald, sorry– the Inquisitor."

"The Herald is now the Inquisitor?" Hawke asked, grinning. Oh, how she pitied that poor girl. "Can't say I didn't see that coming."

Varric chuckled. "I think everyone saw it coming but her. She's in shock. Had a face on her that looked like a rabid druffalo was coming at her full charge."

"You know her well?" Ellen asked him, interested in the words he was saying about her twin.

He gave a shrug. "I know her as well as she lets me know her. I know her well enough to know that she'd take man's tongue out through his larynx over you." He rubbed at his throat. "I almost found that out the hard way."

"There's a story there," Isabela noted, and he gave her a smile.

"You know it," he replied, turning around and giving a wave of his hand for them to follow him. "I'll tell you on the way up."

* * *

**Skyhold, Upper Courtyard**

_She's your sister, not an enemy. Why are you so afraid? Just breathe, Trevelyan, breathe in and out. Beth is with you, you're fine, this won't be a disaster…_

Ellen's heart refused to slow down, despite her inner pep talk. She and Bethany had found an alcove to sit in once they were inside the castle grounds and Hawke went off to hide from the Seeker at Varric's insistence: he mentioned something about losing his head. Even now, an hour or so later, Bethany still held Ellen's head to her chest and ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to keep her calm.

She knew she'd been toeing the line earlier, and felt shame for it. But what did they expect from her, poking at her relentlessly about Evelyn like that? Of course it was going to eventually be too much, and she wasn't well known for being even-tempered. She tried very hard to keep herself under control, to keep that Trevelyan steed in her heart tamed.

"How are you feeling, love?" Bethany whispered to her, placing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

"Better," Ellen said truthfully. "Still nervous, but not shaking with rage. It's an improvement."

"It's normal to be nervous. I was nervous the first time Meredith allowed me to see Sister. So much time had passed that I didn't know who was waiting for me in that room."

"At least I know now she hasn't forgotten me, thanks to Varric's tale on the lift up. She was going to kill him for not telling her he knew me."

"She sounds charming," Bethany said jokingly, nudging Ellen. "Certainly sounds like she loves you, though," she went on, serious now.

Ellen turned her face until she was looking up at Beth, curiosity written over her features. "Would you slit someone's throat over me?"

Bethany laughed. "I don't know about slitting throats, but I would definitely get the information from them, and it wouldn't be a pleasant sensation for them." Bethany's smile changed as something in the courtyard caught her attention, it became wider and made her eyes water up for some reason. "Ellen, look."

Ellen followed her gaze, and felt her breath leave her chest as she saw a sight she hadn't seen in eleven years. Tall and proud, hair long and down her back, her sister was marching with purpose across the courtyard, not looking their way. She was dressed in brown leather pants and tall boots; she wore a long black leather coat with a hood that hid everything else, but there was no mistaking that particular _strut_ that was so thoroughly Evelyn Trevelyan. Ellen jumped to her feet, gasping for air as she took a few steps forward, trying to find the breath to say Evelyn's name to catch her attention.

But it seemed she needn't say anything. The sound of the gasp alone made the Inquisitor stop and very slowly turn around to face her, completing the mirror when identical sets of bright green and blue eyes locked together. It was as if Skyhold had melted around them into nothing because all Ellen could see was her sister standing there with a very dumbstruck look on her face, jaw hanging open. The thought that her own expression may be the same made her want to burst into really inappropriate laughter, but she kept her composure, wondering which of them would react first.

Several heartbeats of silence went by before Ellen could swallow the lump that rose into her throat and say one word in a near whisper, the first to give in.

"Evelyn?"

* * *

**Author's Note.**

The past 2 months of my life have been some of the most turbulent thus far of my thirty-two summers alive. I had to move in with my father for a while, and his health declined into nothing, and just yesterday I had to make the decision to take him off of his dialysis and just let nature run its course. I am admitting him into hospice tomorrow. So please forgive me if this chapter doesn't deliver, is full of typos, and is 2 months late.

 

**Translations!**

I am not fluent in French, so I used a Google translator for what I needed to say in the Val Firmin scene. Don't hate me if the translation is shaky.

" _Pas mal pour une oreille de couteau, non?"-_ "Not bad for a knife-ear, no?"

" _Ces oreilles entendent et connaissent les mots que vous parlez, la jeune fille."-_ "These ears can hear and understand everything you say, little girl."

" _Je suis désolé, mademoiselle! Je–" -_ "I'm sorry, miss! I—"

" _Ne vous excusez pas pour les choses et ne regrettez pas."-_ "Don't apologize for things you aren't sorry for."

" _Deux bouteilles de whisky et de la viande et du pain, s'il vous plaît." -_ "Two bottles of whiskey and beef and bread, please."


	19. Chapter 19

Inquisitor.

Several hours had passed since Leliana and Cassandra had initiated the impromptu naming of the Inquisitor, and even now Evelyn found herself mouthing the word. She kept muttering "Inquisitor Trevelyan" under her breath over and over like an obsessed madman, finding it no more comforting or familiar with each pass. It was as alien as when Cassandra put her name forth with such confidence, as if Evelyn would not stumble her way through this job as she had with being merely the Herald.

 _Merely. '_ Merely' _the Herald of Andraste. The._ Herald. _Of. Fucking._ Andraste. _Right. Inquisitor. Are they insane? Inquisitor Evelyn Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste. How fucking mental is this devilry?_

Being the Herald was enough, wasn't it? Why add on this new damning title, making things more complicated than they already were?

"Why me?" she asked Leliana now, looking over to the cowled woman to her right. "Not to whine about it, but I am honestly curious."

"The Inquisition must have an Inquisitor, and who better for the task?" the bard returned with an air of simplicity that gave Evelyn pause to wonder if she were right. "Cassandra was right in noting that you are the one that has been leading us all along. It is only right that you hold the honor."

"But why not you? Or Cass? You both declared the Inquisition reborn, one of you should have been Inquisitor," Evelyn argued under her breath, careful not to be overloud and keeping the conversation between them.

Leliana turned her face to look at Evelyn, quirking an eyebrow up with a mischievous shine to her light blue eyes, a corner of her pink lips tugging up slightly in an amused smirk. "Me? Honestly, Evelyn, could you imagine what I would be as Inquisitor?" The teasing tone with which it was said did not disguise the seriousness of the question, something the newly instated Inquisitor did not miss.

The assassin gave a short laugh and shook her head. "Point taken," she conceded with a nod.

They were walking together up the set of stairs that led to the upper courtyard, the brick crumbling around them, revealing the wooden bones of the great castle beneath. The two of them were joining Cullen and Josephine to assess the amount of work that needed to be done on the ancient structure to make inhabitable. So far as Evelyn could tell, it needed tons of repairs and restructuring, but it was a beautiful old thing. It held an energy all its own, like silent eyes that held multitudes of stories and songs but had no voice with which to share them. She wondered if there were magic in it, as well, because there were several different species of plants thriving in the ruins despite the colder temperature of the place. It was if the snow never touched them, nor did it stick to the grounds or anywhere in the castle other than the rooftops. It was the damnedest thing she'd ever seen.

 _Solas_ would _find a castle like this one in the Fade._

An hour later, they had confirmed it salvageable and Josephine had assured them that the gold would not be an issue. In fact, she was downright giddy at the prospect. "We must have the best stonemason, and that means we must hire a dwarf. I'll make a note to reach my contacts within Orzammar for some recommendations. In the mean time, we should make a list of what sort of décor we shall have set in the Great Hall…."

Evelyn let Josephine's tirade fade out as she spun in a circle, eyes tilted up at the holey ceiling and the snowflakes drifting in on the wind only to disappear completely once inside. The castle was massive, more than enough to house the entirety of the Inner Circle of the Inquisition, the mages, the top officers of the army, and the castle staff. Seeing the lower courtyard made Evelyn immediately think of a marketplace within the castle for easy commerce and income. There was a section of land in between four large towers that was obviously once a garden, and Evelyn wanted to see it so again.

_So much potential. We could do great things here, and be proud of our home. Solas really saved the day with this one._

"Do you think this would be another Haven if Corypheus attacks us here?" Evelyn asked Cullen after a few minutes.

He shook his head. "The castle is defensible. Haven barely had a wall. We could stand a fighting chance here."

Before Evelyn could ask anything further, the clearing of a throat behind her caught her attention and she looked over her shoulder to see Varric standing in the entry way, looking uncharacteristically nervous, wringing his hands a bit. "Uh, Inquisitor? All the singing and praise and such the other night jogged my memory a bit, and I wrote someone that has experience with this for some back up," he said with a quick glance at Leliana. "They've just arrived."

"That's great!" Evelyn said in a relieved tone. "I'll take whatever help you can get. Could you bring them here to meet with us now?"

"Er," he stammered, looking at Leliana again, mopping a sheen of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "It's complicated. You should meet me on the battlements when you get the chance. It's better this way, trust me. It could… uh, cause a stir."

Evelyn's eyebrows knitted together at his evasiveness, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Leliana and Josephine give each other a significant look. "Well, all right, Varric," Evelyn said with a nod to the dwarf. "I'll meet you on the battlements shortly, then."

Varric gave a wave and turned to walk away, then Evelyn faced Leliana with a questioning look. The bard's mouth was set in a serious line, but there was a slight twinkle to her blue eyes that contradicted the stern creases around her mouth. "If Varric has brought who I think he has brought… Cassandra is going to kill him. Go, you must meet this person."

_Why the hell would Cass kill him for bringing someone here to help? Wait… no. Could it be Hawke? If it's Hawke, then that means… Ellen._

Suddenly it was like a blazing flame had erupted beneath her, and she was sprinting down the hall and out of the door that led back to the upper courtyard. She could see Varric walking up a set of steps in the very back corner, casting looks around himself. He was probably looking for Cassandra, and that meant Leliana was right. He'd brought Hawke into the castle somehow, and Evelyn found herself praying as hard as she'd ever prayed that her twin was in Hawke's company here.

She made to follow him across the yard and up those same stairs, but as she passed the building they'd agreed to make a tavern, a catch of air in someone's throat made her feet lock for some reason, and she could not will herself a step further. Something warm slid through her, something like home, something like a fire on a snowy night. The Inquisitor turned around slowly, her heart beginning to bang out of her breastbone, her throat closing up and her eyes watering with tears, mouth hanging wide open.

"Evelyn?"

Just her name. Just one word. One word, and a thousand golden memories assaulted the space behind her eyes: the slapping of bare feet running on warm stone floors; shrieks of excitement when playing Hide and Seek around the barnyard and in the orchard; the soft yellow glow of a candle burning across the room in the night while Ellen read in bed; attacking Maxwell as a team in the yard, and he allowing the two small girls to bring him down like any good older brother would.

But there were blackened memories, too: Ellen's screams as their father put her to the belt repeatedly for having shown magic; the echo of perverted jests from an uncle about how close they were as children; the sound of marching boots up the drive to the estate and the blinding glare of a dozen armored templars in the high afternoon sun.

But today, before her was a tall human woman with chestnut hair just past her ears, a familiar wide mouth, a slender nose of noble ancestry. She had the same expression on her face as Evelyn wore, and had someone been standing to the side of the two of them, one could say it was a mirror image of bright green eyes feasting upon their own reflection save the scar across one's eye. She couldn't believe what she was seeing and was terrified to blink, as if the moment would make her sister vanish.

Evelyn took a slow, shaky step forward, her knees threatening to buckle under her weight as she was finally close enough to touch the woman's face, fingers tracing familiar planes and divots, lastly lining the scar across her left eye. It was nearly a half inch wide, cut completely through the arch of Ellen's eyebrow, and a dark pink in color. It was a wonder that eye still held sight at all.

"Who did this to you?" Evelyn whispered hoarsely, the first words she'd spoken to her sister in eleven years.

"Random templar," Ellen whispered back in the same way as she brought her hands up to circle Evelyn's wrists. Tears were gathered over her own eyes as well, and one slid away as the contact of her skin on Evelyn's registered to her.

Immediate reciprocality occurred as Evelyn's tears fell free, and they just stood there touching one another with rivers flowing down their cheeks. Neither knew which moved first, but in the next moment they were clutching each other, faces buried in shoulders with sobs so shaking that it was hard to tell which one was crying hardest.

"Maker," Evelyn breathed through her sobs. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank the Maker you've returned to me. I have missed you so, El."

Arms tightened around her, rivaling the strongest holds Sera had ever given Evelyn. "Thank the Maker, indeed. I thought I'd never see you again," Ellen replied, sniffling hard against Evelyn's leather coat.

"Not missing much," Evelyn mumbled back into the robes Ellen wore. "I'm still the better looking twin."

A short, barking laugh erupted from Ellen's throat, and she pulled back just enough to look Evelyn in the eyes. "Still a comedian, I see. We both know _I'm_ the better looking one."

They beamed at one another in silence for a moment, then a soft noise from behind Ellen made the mage jerk in surprise, then blush profusely. "Ah, sorry, love," she said over her shoulder. Evelyn looked past her sister and saw a raven-haired mage hanging back a bit, tears also in her eyes, but a pleased smile playing on her lips.

 _Bethany. That has to be Bethany,_ Evelyn realized, and her face broke into a grin.

Ellen pulled out the embrace completely, but held onto Evelyn's hand as she turned around and led her sister over to the smiling older woman. "Evelyn, I want you to meet someone," she began, lifting the sleeve of her robe to wipe at her eyes. "This is my intended, Bethany Hawke, of Kirkwall."

Evelyn held out the hand that Ellen wasn't holding, and Bethany took it gently. Evelyn leaned down and passed a light kiss over the back of the pale hand politely, heart soaring in her good fortune. "My lady, it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance," Evelyn declared, bowing to the healer formally. "Allow me to be the first… possibly only… Trevelyan to welcome you to the clan."

"Thank you," Bethany said graciously, inclining her head forward at Evelyn's words.

"Speaking of the Trevelyans," Ellen began slowly, the grin fading from her face. "Father?"

Evelyn gave a vehement shake of her head at the very mention of their sire. "The bann lives, but fuck him. He's still the same arrogant piece of shit he was when we were kids, sitting in his estate playing at piety and honor for all of Ostwick; then having his way with the staff at night, fathering bastards he'll never claim."

Her sister did not seem surprised in the slightest to hear that, but also not keen to continue the conversation. "What of Maxwell?" Ellen asked instead, making Evelyn's face warm with shame.

Aside from the confession letter she'd written to him with the instruction to be sent if she died, Evelyn had not written her brother back since his last missive, over half a year ago.

"The last letter I received, he was well. I didn't write him back, though, because I was detained. The conclave came down around my ears and my life has been… hectic… ever since." She rubbed the back of her neck nervously, internally kicking herself for mentioning the conclave, for toeing a line of conversation she didn't want to have with her sister right away. She didn't want her to ask the one question that Evelyn suddenly dreaded, knowing that if she told Ellen the truth in her answer that the way those eyes looked at her right now was going to change instantly.

But as always, as if she could hear the very thoughts running through her head, Ellen immediately gave life to that fear by voicing the last thing Evelyn wanted to hear, verbatim.

"What were you even doing there to begin with? How were you involved in the rebellion?"

Evelyn couldn't force her eyes away from a wall on the far side of the courtyard to meet her twin's gaze. "It's a long story."

It wasn't technically a lie, even if it wasn't what Ellen was asking her for. She couldn't bring herself to tell her compassionate counterpart the truth that she was only there to murder the men that had taken her away so long ago. She couldn't admit that their murders were not her first, nor that they would not be her last. It was what she did, wasn't it? It was what she was good at.

But Ellen wasn't buying it. She took a step closer to Evelyn, reaching out again to touch her shoulder, gently shaking it to have Evelyn look at her. "You can tell me," she said in such a soft, reassuring way that Evelyn wondered if she already knew the answer.

"I… I will. But not now. There's too much going on to have that conversation." Also not a lie, but also a totally selfish, procrastinating move. "It is truly a long tale to be told, and if I am to tell you one thing, I shall tell you all."

Ellen chuckled to herself, allowing her hand to fall free from Evelyn's chin. "Still treating me like I am made of glass. Ev, I promise you, whatever you tell me, I can match it. I've done some things to survive that I would never thought myself capable of doing."

"We," came Bethany's voice from behind Ellen. "We have done things we are not proud of to survive." Ellen turned at the first sound of her lover's correction, and Evelyn watched as her sister practically glided over to the older mage's side with a glow like she'd never seen.

Their hands expertly weaved themselves together, and Ellen gave Bethany a grateful look. "We," she agreed with a nod, eyes only on the warm hues of brown in front of her.

Evelyn briefly wondered if she and Sera appeared as enthralled with each other as the two women she watched nuzzle each other now, and the thought made her remember with a surge of excitement that she too had someone she wanted Ellen to meet. "I have to find my imp–oh, shit, wait. I have to go meet with Hawke about this Corypheus mess, but after I'm done, you have to meet my Sera."

Ellen's eyes widened, and an uncertain grin tugged on one side of her mouth. "You, too?" she asked, referring to their preferences.

Evelyn gave her a single nod and a shrug. "Varric told me about you and Bethany months ago," she admitted. "He thought it funny that we have similar leanings despite having been raised apart." She looked around the run-down courtyard surrounding them, and sighed. "I don't know what the dinner plans for this eve are, but I'd like you both to join the Inner Circle for food and wine tonight. Introductions must be made from my blood to my chosen family."

"I'd love that," Ellen replied after a shared look with Bethany. "Eleven years has been far too long."

Evelyn surged forward and pulled her twin into one last bone-crushing hug. "I have to meet with your esteemed future in-law, but please don't disappear. I have so much I want to tell you, and so much I want to know about you."

Ellen nodded fervently, hugging her sister just as hard as the first time. "Go on, find Hawke. I think she's on the battlements." Ellen paused for a second, then added in a rush of words, "Please don't sleep with her and Isabela. Just… please."

Evelyn pulled away, taken aback. "What?" she asked, confused. "Why would I do that? Sera would fucking murder me and them. She's… protective."

_More like possessive and crazy, but I love her._

"Just listen to me," Ellen went on, ignoring the quiet snort of laughter from Bethany. "They have it in their heads that they're going to bed the Herald of Andraste for their own perverted games; and Maker damn me, you're still beautiful and I know for sure they're going to try." She gave her intended an imploring look. "Beth, tell her I'm not crazy."

Bethany held up both hands as if to say to leave her out of it, and Ellen gave an exasperated sigh. "I can't get in this. This is between you, Sister, and Bela," Bethany said diplomatically, causing Ellen to shake her head.

"I can state with confidence that anything they have to offer isn't worth the loss of my imp," Evelyn laughed, waving her sister off as she made her way after Varric once more.

They weren't hard to find. The sound of three voices laughing reached Evelyn's ears before she'd even topped the stairs she'd seen Varric climb. One unmistakably belonged to the dwarf; one was loud and raucous, the owner a bold personality; and the other was a low chuckle that repeated itself, confident and somewhat complacent. When she rounded the corner at the top, she saw a dark-skinned woman in a blue bandana practically rolling on the stones in mirth, the owner of the loudest laugh, which still rang boisterous in the cold Skyhold air; Varric, hands moving as he told some story or another to the last person, a woman even taller than Evelyn, a grin on her scarred face, her short black hair ruffled from the wind.

"Did I miss the punch line?" Evelyn asked lightly as she joined them, giving Varric a happy grin. She knew he'd missed his family, and was happy for him to be reunited with them as she was to be with Ellen again. "I do so _love_ your punch lines, Varric."

"Sharps!" he exclaimed grandly, waving her closer. "I was just telling them about the time you and Buttercup got so drunk on the way back from Redcliffe that the Seeker was shitting kittens and growling at her own shadow."

Evelyn smiled fondly, remembering how Cass was so mad she was calling she and Varric by their full names. "She's a hard ass, but she's our hard ass. And she was fucking pissed that day."

"Hawke, Rivaini, meet Inquisitor Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste," Varric said with a gesture to Evelyn. "Sharps, this is Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall—"

"I fucking hate that title and you bloody well know it," Hawke interrupted him, but he waved her off as he finished his introductions.

"And this buccaneer is Captain Isabela, with a bunch of bullshit titles attached to it that I can't remember."

The pirate reached out and punched Varric in the arm hard, making him wince and rub the spot as she finished his introduction of herself. "Queen of the Eastern Seas and Sharpest Blade in Llomerryn, you furry little man!" Then her honey eyes turned onto Evelyn, and she saw immediately what her sister had warned her about: there was an intent in the gaze that swept over her now.

"My, my," the pirate said softly, her teasing smile easing into a predatory grin as if it were the most natural thing her face had ever done. "A pleasure it is, indeed, Inquisitor."

Evelyn had shaken off the warning Ellen gave her nonchalantly, but now as she stood in this exquisite woman's sight, shocked at the way that eroticism practically radiated from the captain, she found herself at a loss for words. She had not expected to feel her clothes falling away with a single look, feeling so exposed that the first thing she did when she broke Isabela's spell was look down at herself just to make sure her tits weren't hanging out. She let her eyes move to the Champion, but that didn't really help the sudden heat beneath her collar. Hawke was just as alluring as her pirate queen, but in a different way. Where Isabela promised amazing, sensual sex, Hawke screamed pure physical fucking. Neither energy was a good thing for the poor Inquisitor, who fought hard to remember how to speak in front of these two famous women with reputations that proceeded them.

"Ah," Evelyn stammered, blinking rapidly as she tried to shake her head clear. "Ah, yes, um, welcome to–uh– Skyhold. Business tells me you have some Varric to talk? I mean, Varric tells me you want to business talk– shit, fuck it, you know what I mean." She felt hot all of sudden, aware that her face was red with the rush of blood to her cheeks, which only caused the shade to deepen in her embarrassment.

Hawke and Isabela shared an amused look, and Hawke looked back at her with a nod. "Yeah. Met this guy a few years ago, you see. The Wardens had him all locked up with a spell that was cast with my father's blood, he had control of a whole unit of Grey Wardens and Carta dwarves that had been drinking darkspawn blood. Long story short, we fought him and killed him. Only, I guess we didn't really kill him," Hawke sighed, looking away from Evelyn and out over the mountains. "I've wondered since I found out he was still alive if he can even be killed. Maybe that's why the Wardens imprisoned him. I've yet to find out the reason, as my contact within the Order isn't privy to such information since Weisshaupt has put a lock on anything to do with Corypheus, and we have been discussing my own curiosities of late."

"You have a contact in the Order?" Evelyn's piqued interest overcame her awkwardness, and she visibly perked up. "Do they know why all the Wardens have disappeared? We've been investigating it for months without any real leads."

"He only told me something isn't right with them, and that he was going to ground in a small village called Crestwood because other Wardens had orders to bring him to Clarel," Hawke explained. "I don't think he truly knows the whole story, either. If he does, I won't hear it until I meet him there in person. That is my destination once I leave here. I only hope that Corypheus hasn't gained control of the Orlesian Order."

Evelyn rubbed her chin in thought, pacing a small circle in front of them as she gave consideration to Hawke's words. Corypheus could control Wardens? How? If this Warden felt the need to hide from the others, then something was terribly wrong. It also brought to mind the solitude in which she had found Blackwall, the lone Warden split from the Order. Had he been honest when he said he'd been traveling Ferelden, recruiting? Or was he hiding, too? Hawke was in touch with a Grey Warden, but why? What were her "curiosities", as she called them? She stopped her slow pace and looked at Hawke, clinically this time. Her demeanor seemed open enough, but Evelyn was no fool, and she'd heard too many of Varric's stories about his best friend than to underestimate her.

"May I ask what it was that you were curious about with this Warden?" Evelyn asked lightly, cautiously, searching for a change in Hawke's posture that didn't come.

"Red lyrium," Hawke answered immediately. "I want to know what it is and where it comes from. Wardens have the most documentation about the Deep Roads other than the Shaperate in Orzammar, and we both know I'm not getting anything out of those bloody dwarves."

Their individual tasks seemed to align somewhere there. Corypheus was certainly utilizing the properties of red lyrium to a devastating effect. Evelyn started her pace again, locking her gloved fingers together behind her back. "What would you say to an alliance? Corypheus is using red lyrium to create his legion, and I would also know more about it, if I could. If we back you to find your Warden, might I come to ask him some questions of my own?"

Hawke gave wide, lazy grin. Blue eyes like a morning sky slowly dragged over her entire body. Evelyn knew what was coming before it came. "If I get to hang around you for any amount of time, I'm game, Inquisitor."

Evelyn's face heated again instantly, her professional stance flying right over the edge of the battlements behind her. These two were going to be a handful, it was painfully obvious. She could already hear the growling from her imp, and Sera didn't even know they were there, yet. "Right, well, then that's settled," she sighed exasperatedly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear nervously. "We should seek lodging for you, it will be at least a couple days before we are ready to make moves, the room in which we plan to make the war room is in a bit of disarray at the moment."

Isabela stepped forward with her bottom lip caught in her teeth. "We could lodge where you lodge and make some moves… if you know what I mean?"

Varric chose that moment to start laughing so hard he snorted, but Evelyn found herself once again caught in an amber colored spell, not realizing Isabela had moved until the pirate was pressed fully against her. She tried to take a step back, but found Hawke right there, solid muscle just like Evelyn figured the lean woman to be.

"Yeah," Hawke said lowly in a voice dripping with promises, "we're fun to lodge with."

Evelyn's heart was in her throat, caught between these two forces of nature, something that she would have _loved_ six months ago. Something that a part of her wanted to give into even now, to feel every bit of the soft curves hugging her front right now, and feel the power coiled in every bit of taut flesh behind her. Maker, her body was beginning to throb with the mere thought of it. But there was someone else that made her throb, someone else that made her swell in a way these two never could.

" _My_ lodgings?" she squeaked, completely inappropriate for someone of her status. Josephine would have been appalled. "N-no, not my lodgings. I share my lodgings already, you know? I –uh– I have an imp– I mean, I have a Sera." Hands–she had no idea whose– slid into the inside of her leather jacket and settled on her hips, making her squeak again with indignation before giving a low growl of frustration. "Holy Maker, I have a lover!"

She managed to pull herself from between them, finding it immediately easier to breathe once she was out of their midst with all that pressure. She straightened out her jacket and pushed her hair out of her face, giving a middle finger to Varric, who hadn't tried to help at all and only instigated them by laughing. She huffed when his laughter didn't cease, then looked back at both of the older women wearing matching grins. "Once upon a time, things might have… well, it doesn't matter. I have a lover, one I don't wish to lose, and she doesn't share."

"A shame, that," Isabela sighed in disappointment, leaning her weight onto Hawke, who slipped an arm around her.

"She could play, too," Hawke offered with a careless shrug. "We aren't particularly picky."

"Or shy," Isabela added with a chuckle at Varric wiping his eyes free of tears and hiccoughing.

"A kind offer," Evelyn acknowledged with a wry grin. She was trying not to allow them to see how that had affected her, and she needed an out. "But one I still have to refuse. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to do Inquisitor shit."

_I have to find Sera. I have to get this out of my system._

She practically ran away after that, hurrying down the stairs into the courtyard, eyes peeled for a familiar mop of blonde hair. If she didn't have an orgasm soon, she felt like she was going to combust, and her hand alone would not stand to do the trick. She needed Sera, and she needed her _now_.

"We'll talk later! I have something important to do!" she called out to Ellen as she passed her and Bethany again in her pursuit of the elf.

She found her in a nook near the armory, nose stuck in some book or another, face scrunched up in confusion at whatever it was she was reading. Evelyn didn't even pause to question why Sera was hidden away with a _book_ of all things, just reached down and pulled the thief to her feet, tugging her along behind her as she headed for the dungeons. It was the closest unoccupied space to them, and it would serve as privacy for what was about to happen.

"Shiny, what the hell?" Sera demanded once they were alone and the door had slammed shut behind them in the torch lit stairwell.

Evelyn didn't answer her verbally, just pulled her head forward to shut her up with a kiss, and not a simple and sweet one, either. It was hunger, as if she hadn't had sustenance for weeks. She got straight to the point, reaching down between them and unbuckling her own belt and hastily snatching the ties of her pants loose. She blindly searched for the elf's left hand without pulling away from her, and shoved it directly under her smalls, rolling her hips against the instant pressure Sera applied.

Her imp got the point quickly, but still pulled her mouth away from Evelyn's to speak. "Andraste's knickers, you're wet," she breathed, slowly stroking the folds beneath her fingertips. "Been thinkin' about this all day or something?"

"Something," Evelyn muttered impatiently, reaching down and pressing her hand over Sera's to make her touch harder. "Just shut up and _fuck_ me, imp."

"Shit," Sera hissed when teeth caught the skin below her jaw. "Right here by the door? You daft?"

"I don't care," Evelyn groaned, becoming desperate against the wall. But then Sera pulled her hand away from her, and Evelyn gave her a murderous glare. "Sera—"

"Shut it and come on," Sera interrupted her, grabbing her hand and descending the stairs. "Not gonna fuck you right where any tit could just open a friggin' door, loony." She shot a devilish grin over her shoulder. "'Specially 'cause you get loud."

"First cell," Evelyn panted, pushing past Sera and jogging down the remaining steps, holding her pants up with one hand. "But if we came all the way down here, you're getting naked, too."

A cackle sounded off behind her, the one that was trouble. One of Evelyn's favorite versions of Sera's laugh, and it made a thrill run through her when she heard it. She indeed entered the first cell on the left, after a cursory glance of their surroundings to make for certain that there were no witnesses. She threw her coat off her shoulders as Sera barreled in behind her, slamming the iron door shut. They'd broken records of getting naked together before, but not quite like this. The clean pile of hay in the corner beneath a fresh bedroll was instantly scattered, the two of them having missed the bed roll completely once Evelyn had landed on her back. She grunted in slight pain at the impact, and at the coldness of the stones under the hay touching the bare skin of her back. But overpowering it all was the heat below her belly, the fire being stoked expertly by fingers that knew the way to touch and stroke.

"Inside," Evelyn whimpered into Sera's mouth. "Need you, please…"

"Turn over," Sera retorted huskily, pulling back so that Evelyn could do as she told her.

_Yes! Yes._

The Inquisitor flipped over without hesitation, assuming correctly what Sera wanted by pushing lower half up onto her knees. She was rewarded by the instant gratification of being filled, but the elf's movements were slow and teasing, maddening.

"Faster," she whispered, pushing back into the thrusts of Sera's fingers. "Harder."

"What's that? Can't hear you, Shiny," Sera said smugly, not picking her pace up a bit. "Gotta say it louder."

"Faster," Evelyn repeated, louder this time. She looked over her shoulder and met the elf's steady grey gaze. _"Harder, imp."_

"Andraste's tits," Sera gasped, shivering visibly. "That look on your face. Shit, Shiny."

The thief picked up her pace then, and Evelyn's head fell forward onto her forearms, mouth open in a silent scream. This was exactly what she needed, exactly why she'd tracked her imp down after she left that brief meeting with two of the sexiest humans she'd ever laid eyes on. She just needed Sera alone and very naked, and very much drilling the shit out of her; hot, panting breath on her neck and wet slaps of skin the only sounds in her ears. Something was missing, though….

"Pull my hair," she breathed, brandishing the back of her neck to Sera invitingly. The elf predictably sank her teeth into it, and slid her fingers slowly up the back of Evelyn's head to thread a handful of her hair into a tight hold. "Maker!" The yelp fell out of her when she felt the tug, the loudest sound she'd made, yet. "Perfect, yes," she gasped, her back arching almost painfully. She was so close, so close so soon that it was as embarrassing as always. No matter that she'd been here with Sera more than once, a shaking mix of pleading words and glowing praise floating in a puddle of something resembling herself.

It was over when Sera snuck her thumb up against the place at the top, allowing it to rub across with every movement her hand made, and pulled tightly on her hair again, turning her face so that their eyes met. Evelyn could plainly see in the elf's eyes that she wanted to watch her face as she came, the fact being the thing to tip the coming edge. Her muscles pulled taut, then released with the roar of blood rushing through her ears, and Sera wasn't yet relenting, so it wasn't over for what felt like an hour, but in reality was no more than a few minutes in which she came repeatedly.

"I gotta ask," Sera panted to her as the human slid fully to floor and made no effort to move. "What was that about? Never seen you like that."

"Talk later," Evelyn mumbled against the straw, drowsiness starting to flood through her.

"I mean, not complainin', and I was phwoar and all that," the imp went on, ignoring the suggestion completely.

_Since when do you want to talk after sex? For Andraste's sake, just let me enjoy this._

"I mean, I know. Inquisitor, right? Thought it might be Cass, 'cause you're already the Herald, but I think you're well up for it, yeah? So, what I'm saying is, are you… are you all good, then? This wasn't 'cause you're not?"

Evelyn sighed deeply, knowing that if she didn't explain herself in some way that Sera would work herself up into worry, which meant her temper. Avoiding that was paramount, even if it meant she had to let go of her bliss to talk to her lover. She rolled over onto her back, eyes only half open, internally fighting the fuzzy feeling to come back to Skyhold where her imp was asking hard questions.

"No, this wasn't an identity crisis," she assured her sleepily. "I just had a moment today that made me want you _really_ badly." She reached up and took her hands, pulled the elf down into the hay with her, and wrapped herself around her completely. "And Maker knows you never fail to deliver _exactly_ what I need."

Sera gave a snort and rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "He ought to know, you call his name enough when we frig."

"I just want him to know how appreciative I am that he led me to you," Evelyn argued back playfully, a grin on her face. "You're only the best thing that's ever happened to me."

The words had fallen out of her mouth before she really thought about what they could insinuate, but it didn't make them any less true. She felt her face turn red, and Sera disentangled their arms to push herself onto an elbow, the smile on her face faded into a serious look. She tilted her head to one side, eyes narrowing.

"You really mean that? Not just honeyed words?" The questions were bordering on being suspicious, and it bothered Evelyn just a little that she even had to ask.

She pushed up onto an elbow as well, eye to eye with the thief. "I didn't really mean to say it, but yes. I mean it. It's true. You are very much the best thing that's ever happened to me, Sera."

_I'm so fucking in love with you, it's insane. Too soon to put that on you, but I'll give you this. You need to know this._

The grey of the imp's eyes softened, and she shook her head at herself. "Never thought I'd hear _that_ come out of someone's gob. You're just full of surprises."

"Come back to me," Evelyn murmured, tugging at her hand a bit. "I have more surprises."

"Who said I liked surprises?" Her retort was empty, however, as she was easily led back into Evelyn's hold.

The assassin hummed to herself thoughtfully, cupping Sera's breast in one hand and pulling their faces together with the other. "I think you'll like these."

"Yeah?" The whisper faded into a soft gasp as Evelyn lightly applied pressure to the hardened tip of the elf's breast in her hand.

"Mmhmm," the human hummed back confidently, kissing her bottom lip. "All of them are things I'd only give to the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Reckon I–shit–have to take 'em," Sera breathed back as Evelyn kissed down the column of her throat.

The assassin deigned not to reply, and instead used her mouth where her fingers had teased the thief's nipple into a pebble. A few licks and tugs later, there were no more words passed at all between them, having entered a place in their dynamic they both knew well. Now that the urgency was out of her system, the Inquisitor took her time, enjoying the slower route. A possessive piece of her psyche reveled in the fact that she knew Sera had never been with anyone else _that_ way: the longer path, the emotional path that they both traveled when they were together like this. That same aspect of herself was sickened that she had been here before with Daniela, a woman so undeserving of that part of herself that Evelyn wished she could snatch it back from her intact, if only to hand it right over to the woman beside her now.

 _But I have everything else to give her, all of me belongs to her._ A slight nudge from her and Sera rolled over on her back in compliance to the silent request, squirming against the straw when it tickled against her skin.

"Daft, this. Rollin' in the hay," the imp snorted quietly in amusement at their predicament.

"Making memories," Evelyn corrected distractedly, still placing teasing kisses across the bottom of Sera's stomach.

Sera's breath hitched at the words, and a hand came down to push at the top of Evelyn's head. "Down. Now," she demanded, making Evelyn laugh against her as she resisted the archer's push.

"Let me appreciate you. Best thing in my life, remember?" She gave a teasing lick to the top of the elf's sex, pulling back when her hips rose in search of more.

"Arrows," Sera warned, pushing harder and raising her hips again insistently.

Evelyn gave cocky grin against her inner right thigh, nipping the flesh affectionately. "But imp—" She made to argue her point further, but a sudden tug of her hair and an accurate placement of Sera's sex shut her up.

 _Well,_ Evelyn thought to herself with a silent chuckle, _if that's how it is, who am I to deny it?_

Not a minute after giving in, Sera suddenly froze and hurriedly pushed her away, much to Evelyn's dismay. She opened her mouth to question her, but Sera had already turned and started grabbing clothes, quickly pulling them on. Evelyn just stared in confusion, but then Sera gave her a look as she threw the assassin's pants at her.

"Someone's comin'," she hissed, and Evelyn gave a jolt before she found her pants on herself without really remembering doing it.

She heard the footsteps and voices now, as well, buttoning her boots as quickly as she could, her shirt thrown on but not fastened. Her fingers dexterously made their way up her shirt then, and grabbed her coat just as soon as she was done. She was trying to rake the straw out of her hair when the two people appeared in the dungeon with them, and she shot a glance at Sera to see that she too had managed to be fully dressed.

Leliana had already spotted them, having heard the scuffle of their movements before she'd exited the stairwell, Evelyn was sure. She'd also seen Evelyn trying to pull straw from her hair, and her eyes flitted over to Sera, who was much in the same state. The Inquisitor knew she was found out when that knowing gaze traveled to the scattered hay pile and rumpled bedroll behind them on the stone floor.

"This portion of the castle will need significant attention if we are to– oh, dear," Josephine said in surprise–maybe _too_ much surprise, turning around to see Evelyn and Sera in the cell. "Inquisitor, Sera," she recovered in polite greeting. "I had not expected to find anyone so deep in the castle."

Evelyn and Sera gave simultaneous snorts of laughter at the phrasing, considering what had just transpired before they were interrupted. Leliana covered her mouth and averted her eyes from Josephine, who frowned a little at the reaction before a dawning light came into her eyes and she blushed prettily.

"We were just touring the castle," Evelyn lied, not looking at Leliana, knowing damn well that she knew it was a lie. "Thought we saw a spider in the hay, tried to kill it. You know, the usual."

"Inquisitor, are you well? You've got a mark coming up right on your throat," the bard said in mock concern, amusement coloring her tone.

Evelyn reflexively slapped a hand over her neck, face flooding with red. "Uh, the damn spider must have bit me."

Leliana looked at Sera pointedly. "It must have been a rather large spider, no?"

Sera went white, swallowing hard as she gave a jerky nod. "Massive, really," she supplied weakly, also knowing they were caught.

Evelyn made to push the cell door open, and found it wouldn't budge. It had locked when it shut behind them earlier. She ignored the titter from Leliana and looked over her shoulder at Sera with a half grin. "Surprise, the door is locked," she said in a light tone.

"I've had enough of you and your surprises today," Sera grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. "You owe me, Shiny."

"Well," Leliana sighed, stepping forward and producing a lock picking kit from her robes. "I'd regret having to be the one to tell your sister that you have managed to lock yourself in your own dungeon."

Evelyn's eyes shot to Sera, whose face wrinkled in confusion at the words at first, then understanding overcame it. She looked at the human, cocking her head to the side as her eyes narrowed. "Your sister is here? You didn't even mention that before you attacked me in the stairwell?"

Evelyn gave her a sheepish grin and a little helpless shrug, and held her arms open. "Surprise again!"

Sera stared at her for a moment while Leliana fiddled with the lock, then as it clicked open she shook her head at Evelyn. She pushed past her to exit first when the door swung forward a second later, muttering under her breath all the while. "Sod your stupid surprises, I'm done today."

Evelyn could only sigh and follow, but the sound of Leliana's voice carried over the stones to the stairwell as the Inquisitor topped the first step. "Oh, and Evelyn? Cassandra is looking for Varric. We met Hawke and Isabela in one of the towers after you met with them."

She froze.

"You're fucking joking, right?" Evelyn's head began to throb lightly, but every pound against her skull was harder than the one before.

"I am afraid not," Josephine sighed, steadily scribbling something. "They were, in fact, the very ones that pointed us in this direction." She gave Evelyn a significant look with a dark eyebrow raised, daring Evelyn to contradict her implications. "They're charming, are they not?"

Evelyn grimaced, hearing Sera's echoing footsteps come to halt several steps above her and around the corner. "Ah," she said after a pause. "Well, it seems I have to keep Varric's head on his shoulders. Good day, to both of you."

_Fuck my life._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kind words and kudos over the past few weeks. It's been a nice reason to smile. I'm sorry if the chapter isn't great, but bear with me. I've had a rough couple months.


	20. Chapter 20

**Skyhold**

Hawke and Isabela at least let the poor Inquisitor get out of sight before they both burst into laughter at her expense. That had been fun, even if it seemed the woman would be more a challenge than they anticipated. Despite that damnable leather coat, Hawke certainly felt the curve of the magnificent posterior that the woman possessed when the Inquisitor backed into her during that brief "Herald sandwich". She  _really_ wanted to get a look at the Inquisitor outside of that coat.

Varric was in wheezing stitches over what had just happened between his two old friends and his new one, holding himself on the ribs and wincing while grinning. "Saw that coming, too," he admitted with one last chuckle. "I knew that if the three of you ever met, then the four of us could get into some serious trouble. She's just as dark and shadows as we are, honestly."

"I'd darken her shadow, all right," Isabela drawled suggestively from beneath the weight of Hawke's right arm around her shoulders. "Ten sovereigns say that she is running to find her lover for a frolic."

Hawke scoffed, shaking her head. "I'm no fool, and won't take a fool's bet. She was almost ready to come just standing between us."

Varric waved them closer to edge of the battlement that he was near, pushing himself onto the tips of his toes to get a look at the courtyard below. Hawke leaned against the stone, folding her arms beneath her chest as she watched the Inquisitor make her way across the green. She saw her shout off something to someone out of Hawke's line of sight, then a second later she was pulling a skinny blonde elf into a door on the far side of the courtyard.

_The Inquisitor's lover is an elf? Interesting. I'll bet that makes the nobles cringe._

"That's the lover, then?" Isabela asked from Varric's other side, also watching.

"Yeah, that's Buttercup. She'd like you both, too, if you weren't hot after her piece of ass," he told her, moving away from the edge once the Inquisitor and her elven lover had disappeared. "Possessive little monkey."

"I can see why," Hawke replied dryly, also moving away. She didn't want to risk being spotted by the Seeker, but the thought also reminded her to ask Varric about that. "So, how long am I supposed to be hidden away up here, exactly?"

Varric shifted uncomfortably, grimacing. "Yeah, I guess I need to find the Seeker and just get this shit over with… but how about we break open my last bottle of brandy before I lose my head?"

"Lovely idea, Varric," Isabela answered gleefully, draining the last of the bottle of port in her hand. Hawke found herself amused that at least half of Isabela's prior demands of a bath and a bottle had been met. "A celebration is in order, after all. Four years, and we're all back together!"

Hawke grinned hard, feeling a light feeling flitter through her. Her pirate was right, this was indeed cause for a fall-down drunken night. She had a good feeling about the Inquisitor after having finally seen the tale become flesh, and very attractive flesh, at that. She only hoped that Stroud wouldn't mind her letting the Inquisitor tag along when she came to meet him. She'd never seen the man truly angry, though she wasn't sure if she could take him seriously with that moustache of his bushy and sticking out from his face. Hawke gave a low chuckle just imagining the stalwart man in such a state.

"So," Isabela intoned while Varric pulled the cork from his bottle. "Tell us about the Inquisitor. Not like that," she added hurriedly when he gave her a stink eye. "Is she a fighter? A leader? Just a pretty face?"

The dwarf took a long pull from the bottle before passing it over to Hawke. "She's talented enough, yeah. Works better when she's sneaking, but can hold her own face to face, too. Fights a little like you, Rivaini, all jumps and flips and kicks. A leader? It's like this: she does it, but she hates it, so she does a good job not being an ass… most of the time, anyway. Definitely not just a pretty face."

"Deadly?" Hawke asked lightly, raising an eyebrow at her best friend.

He gave her a long look, and then nodded his head once. "Deadly," he agreed. "But controlled."

"Sounds a lot like her sister, actually," Hawke noted softly, letting her gaze drift to the mountain tops around them. Skyhold was nothing if not majestic. The view somewhat reminded her of the terrace outside of her room at the estate in Kirkwall, and she felt a twinge of something like homesickness.

"How is it that she looks just like the kid, when she's so much sexier at the same time?" Isabela wondered to herself after sipping the bottle that Hawke handed her. "How does that even work?"

"It's the build," Hawke replied, thinking about Evelyn's physique. She was much more filled out than Ellen, had much more muscle and definition. Not to mention that mane of hair. The Inquisitor had  _gorgeous_ hair, long like Isabela's but not quite as thick nor dark, and a lot less curl to it. It was still enough to make Hawke want to wrap it around her hand and use it for a hold while fucking the hell out of the younger woman.

_Can't get lost in that thought. Save that one for later, tell Bela about it while I'm doing that to her, instead._

"Her face," Isabela disagreed. "She's… pretty. Like, really pretty. Ellen isn't bad to look at, mind you, but her sister definitely got the looks when they were baking in the oven."

"Maker's balls, you two," Varric sighed mournfully, shaking his head at them. "The world is coming to an end, and you're both distracted by a beautiful woman." He paused dramatically, then grinned widely. "I missed the fuck out of both of you."

"Let's not part again so soon, then?" Hawke proposed, raising the bottle for drink. "Come with us to Crestwood. I plan to travel a bit before the Inquisitor. It will be easier to track him with a smaller group. You, me, Isabela."

Varric gave a nod. "Sounds good to me. I'll probably need a break after getting my head sewn back on."

"Do you really think she will be that pissed?" Isabela asked him, and he gave her a shrug.

"Probably. We've come to tolerate one another well lately, and when she finds out that I lied my ass off to her about not knowing where you guys were, bye-bye to any trust she's ever had in me. And I didn't even lie about everything else. I told her what she wanted to know."

"Thanks for that, by the way," Hawke said to him after a moment's pause. "Covering for us like you did. You don't know how much I appreciate that."

Varric waved away her thanks, shaking his head at her. "Don't mention it. You deserved to have some time to yourself, Hawke. These bastards would let you fight until you're dead."

Hawke gave a huff of laughter, looking back towards the main hall of the castle. "I don't know. If they wanted to give me a bloody castle, I might have made some concessions."

Isabela made a face at the thought, also taking a look at the stone façade across the way. "I don't think castle life suits you, sweet thing. You're much better off on a deck in a sleeveless shirt with sweat rolling down your back. Trust me."

"It suits you, I know that," Hawke chuckled, taking the bottle again when Isabela passed it to her. "I was just a greenhorn whelp when I first came aboard."

"You're still a greenhorn whelp." Isabela gave her a nudge in the ribs good naturedly, shooting her a wink.

"Fuck off, Bela," Hawke said with a fond smile. "I can run line and mop a deck better than some of your old hands."

Isabela's face puckered as if she were most impressed at her lover's words. "Ooh, you're a master cabin boy. Good job, love."

Varric interrupted them with a heavy sigh. "Excuse me, but you're sounding like you're about to get into some weird, ritualistic form of foreplay. I should find the Seeker."

"We still have nearly half a bottle," Isabela protested, holding up the brandy for Varric to see the level slosh against the glass.

"Keep it," the dwarven bowman lamented to his old friends. "I won't be able to take it where I'm going."

"She's not going to behead you," Hawke said to him reassuringly, and he gave her a very serious look, his eyebrow raised as if to question her statement. "I'd have to have a  _long_ talk with her if she pulled her blade to you."

"Maybe not," he agreed after a pause, with a single nod. "But if I show up in her quarters with a bottle of brandy, that's as good as sealing my fate."

"Should we come with you?" Isabela asked, the most serious thing she'd said since they'd arrived.

He shook his head at her offer as he moved for the stairs. "Nah, that would just make it worse. I'll see you guys later."

They watched him slowly make his way down the stairs, his head hung low, steps dragging the stone. He really didn't want to do this, that much was painfully obvious. Hawke wondered why he was so sullen; this wasn't the first time he'd had to admit he was lying about something. He was a damn story-teller, after all, it was what he did. It had to mean that it was more about who he was confessing to, more than the admission itself.

"He cares what she thinks," she said out loud in realization. "I think he actually respects her."

"That's what it looks like, isn't it?" Isabela affirmed, eyebrows knitted in thought. "Odd, if you ask me. The woman has held him hostage twice."

Hawke gave a snort of derisive laughter. "Maybe Varric has some well-kept kinks in his locked little trunk."

"Like he'd ever cheat on his crossbow," the pirate returned sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Bianca would 'accidentally' shoot in the wrong direction in the next scuffle they fight."

"Not you, too," Hawke groaned, rubbing her face with her hand. Her head was starting to hurt, and she all of a sudden felt exhausted. Her nose tickled with feel of thinning mucus, and she swiped her wrist beneath before any could trickle out. Hearing the crossbow personalized always annoyed her for some reason, like the name itself held a negative connotation from something in Varric's shady past. The subject matter plus whatever was coming over her was proving to be a bad mix for her mood.

 _I don't have time to be sick,_ she thought to herself angrily.  _Too much shit is flying out of a druffalo's ass to let this happen. You're not going to let this happen, Hawke. You're going to ignore it and keep moving. You have to._

"Humor him, sweet thing," Isabela murmured, unaware of Hawke internally chastising herself. "He loved her namesake, and you know it. He's never told us a damn truth about that crossbow, but I know it was a woman. Bianca was a person, even if she's worm food now or not."

"I know that," Hawke sighed, reaching for the bottle Isabela still held limply in her hand. "But I don't think it helps him heal from it or move on."

"We all cope differently," Isabela replied easily. "It isn't fair to judge him for how he deals with his own shit."

"I'm not judging him," Hawke insisted after swallowing the mouthful of brandy she'd taken. "It just worries me. I want him to be happy."

"He does well enough. That's why I say just let him do as he's done."

The pressure that was building behind Hawke's eyes deepened, and she took another chug of alcohol in response. She couldn't let Isabela see any more than she dared, because if she knew how badly Hawke felt at the moment, they wouldn't leave Skyhold for days. She needed to be on the way to Crestwood by daybreak, she had to find out what the hell was going on with the Wardens. A cold couldn't deter that. Maybe a nap while they waited couldn't hurt, though.

"Come on," Hawke said, jerking her head towards a walkway to their left. "Let's go find some walls and have a nap."

"A nap?" Isabela asked flatly, giving her a deadpan stare. "Since when do you want to nap?"

"Since now, when there's nothing else to be done but wait."

The Rivaini woman gave a single shouldered shrug. "Well, all right. Lead on."

Hawke turned around and eyed the tower that was just across the way from them, seeing that a portion of the roof had given way long ago, but that most of it was intact. "That should do," she said, pointing to it.

Hawke shoved on the closed wooden door with her a shoulder once they reached it a minute later, and it gave easily enough. But she stopped short of entering, seeing a gaggle of people already standing inside. The tallest of the three did a double take when she and Isabela appeared, the armor clad warrior's eyes widening in recognition. She took a step back, shaking her head. A shorter woman in chain mail and robes reached a hand over to her companion, placing it gently on the woman's chest plate that bore a familiar sigil. A Seeker of Truth.

_You've got to be fucking joking with me right now, Andraste. Your sense of humor needs some work._

"Cassandra," the robed woman said firmly in an Orlesian accent. "Do not overreact."

_That must be Sister Nightingale._

"Where is Varric?" Cassandra Pentaghast demanded of Hawke, taking a step forward as she ignored the spymaster completely.

Hawke felt herself tense, and she took a step forward as well. "He's looking for you," she replied coldly, not backing down even as the Seeker advanced.

"Good," the warrior huffed hotly, stepping around Hawke to exit the tower. "Because now I am looking for  _him_."

Hawke leaned slightly to her left so that her shoulder caught the Seeker's as she passed, and Cassandra whipped around with a deep scowl on her face, her nostrils flared in anger. Hawke slowly turned so that she was facing the woman completely, and raised her chin in invitation for the older woman to make a move. They stared at each other in silence for a moment before the Hero of Orlais turned on her heel once more with a low grunt and left it alone.

Hawke watched her stomp away and down the stairs, and then shared a look with Isabela. If she so much as harmed a hair on his chest, they would tear her apart.

"Perhaps we should find the Inquisitor?" The remaining person in the room stood to one side, her quill posed above what looked to be a portable desk. Her accent was Antivan, so Hawke easily pegged her as the ambassador that Varric had written about in the early days of his time within the Inquisition. "She could mediate the argument that is surely about to occur."

"I think you'd find the Inquisitor buck naked somewhere through that door across the courtyard," Isabela snickered, thumbing over shoulder in the general direction they last saw Trevelyan.

Nightingale gave a click of her tongue in mock disapproval, and her eyes glittered with amusement. "Do I want to know how you know that, Isabela? You've literally just arrived; surely you've not had enough time to talk the Inquisitor out of her armor?"

"Oh, lark, you wound me," Isabela lamented playfully, placing a hand over her heart. "You of all people should know better than to underestimate my charm; it took even less time to talk  _you_ out of yours all those years ago."

Hawke raised an eyebrow at the outright acknowledgment Isabela gave to that night the two shared with the Hero of Ferelden nearly eleven years ago. Varric had made Nightingale sound like a knife in the shadows sort of girl, but here Isabela was, just prattling along about the bard's personal life.

_You know what? If she's slaughtered in her sleep, she'll have deserved it. She knows better than this._

But Hawke found herself surprised when Nightingale merely laughed at the pirate's words, a tinkling giggle that seemed otherworldly coming from such a reputed spymaster. "Josie, you recall the dashing pirate I spoke to you about? Allow me to introduce you to Captain Isabela," the hooded woman said to the elegantly dressed Antivan beside her.

"A pleasure, Captain," Josie said with a polite inclination of her head and bend of her knees in an almost curtsy. "Josephine Montilyet, Ambassador to the Inquisition."

Isabela stepped forward with a hand outstretched, and Hawke rolled her eyes. She knew this act. Josephine predictably fell hook-line-and-sinker. She placed her palm in Bela's, and the pirate bent and passed a light kiss across the knuckles. "Likewise, beautiful," she replied with a crooked grin, making the woman blush.

_She really fancies herself as suave and dangerous. Loves to show it off. Especially to nobles, like this one obviously is._

When both pairs of eyes turned to her, Hawke startled out of her reflections and cleared her throat. "I'm Hawke, obviously."

"Delighted to finally make your acquaintance, Champion," Josephine said to her, but Hawke shook her head at the title, as always.

"It's just Hawke," she said flatly. "Please." She added that more for decorum than for actual manners. Her head was starting to swim a bit, and she really wanted to lie down. These two were standing in the way of that happening, so they had to go. She'd had enough with the damn small talk.

"Very well," the ambassador answered simply, completely unruffled at the rude response. "Hawke."

"I can see the resemblance," Nightingale said thoughtfully, giving a nod to Hawke in greeting. "I knew your sister, back in Lothering."

Hawke's eyebrows drew together, eyes narrowing by themselves.  _Bethany knew Leliana? …wait. Hawke, you damned fool, the lay sister Beth always talked about visiting in the village. She was fond of her, if I remember right._

"Right, I remember her mentioning you," Hawke said aloud. "The lay sister with the pretty voice."

"How kind of her to say so. Is she with you?"

The question struck Hawke oddly, and she rearranged her stance to shift her weight to her back foot and crossing her arms over her chest. "I would think you already know the answer to that question," she noted conversationally. "I'm told nothing goes on here that you don't know."

The spymaster inclined her head to Hawke with a coy grin. "I should find the Inquisitor before Cassandra finds Varric. I bid you both a good day."

Hawke gave a tiny wave of her hand at the two women as they saw themselves out of a door on the far side of the room that led into an old building. Once the door had closed behind them, she let out a breath of air she'd been holding since she'd challenged Leliana's question about Bethany. Isabela regarded the action with a curious look on her face, as if she didn't quite understand what had just happened. Hawke gave a shake of her head to say she didn't want to talk about it, and the pirate gave a shrug of acceptance before pulling her bag from her back.

"Both rolls out, you sleep like the dead when you're sick," Isabela ordered, pointing at the roll on top of Hawke's own pack. "I want to be able to get away when you start sweating your fever out all over me."

Hawke's mouth fell open. She was trying so hard not to let how she was feeling show, but here this woman was, tearing her ass out for it, anyway. "I'm fine," Hawke lied for argument's sake. She knew she was caught, but it was the principle that her lover felt the need to call her out on her bullshit that fueled her need to be right.

"Bullshit, Hawke," Isabela shot back, rummaging through the contents of her bag. "You look like hell, and I don't know why you always try and deny it. I've got some of Bugoli's elixir in here somewhere, I know it."

"No," Hawke groaned, her stomach flipping with the mere mention of Bugoli's home brew. That Tevinter bastard threw six types of liquor in a single bottle with a chunk of the spiciest pepper from Antiva. "Not Bugoli's shit, Bela. Please. I'd rather die."

"Don't be dramatic," she admonished back, still digging. Then she gave an impatient cluck of her tongue and turned the whole bag upside down, shaking the contents onto the stone floor. Hawke watched in slight amusement of the irony.

"Me, dramatic? That's rich, coming from you, love."

"Oh, shut up. Here, I found it. I knew I still had some." She brandished a small glass bottle with murky brown liquid sloshing inside of it, and Hawke could see the brownish-red pulp of the pepper floating near the base. The sight of it made her queasy.

"Bela, I really don't think—"

"That's the problem, Hawke. You  _don't_ think. You just do. And this cold is a result. Come now, bottoms up. Eat the pepper like a proper man."

Hawke gave her a nasty look, but she took the bottle and pulled the cork. "If I end up dead because of you, I am going to haunt your dreams until the day you die."

Bela gave her a dismissive wave of her hand. "Promises, promises. Shut up and drink up."

Hawke took a deep breath, and then turned the bottle up quickly, guzzling the contents without tasting it, and swallowing the chunk of pepper whole. She threw the empty bottle across the room, hearing it smash against something, but her vision was swimming too hard for her to see what it struck. When she released the breath she'd taken, she found the foul taste of the brew coated thickly around her tongue. She made a sour face, her eyes squeezing shut as a cough racked its way out of her. Her throat was aflame, and her belly was quickly catching fire, as well. It was all she could do to not throw up, what with the way her stomach started cramping and lurching the moment the concoction settled into it.

"Do you have Varric's brandy?" she gasped a few moments later, the coughing having stolen her breath. That taste was driving her mad, she didn't care about the benefits of the shit.  _Fuck sweating the cold out with this blighted madness in a bottle._

Hawke blinked back tears gathering over her eyes as she snatched the brandy from Isabela, immediately taking a mouthful. She swished it around her mouth, tilted her head back and gargled. She half-stepped around, half pushed Isabela out of her way, making it over to a corner where she spat the entire mouthful out onto random debris. She stood there for a moment, leaning her weight onto her knees as she bent forward, taking deep breaths through her nose and letting them out of her mouth.

"Are you all right?" Isabela asked from behind her, her humor barely masked.

"I hate you." Hawke spit again, then stood up, lifting the bottle once more to take a swallow. The brandy going down helped to wash away the last of the taste, but the burning sensation in her lower abdomen was only just gearing up, and she knew she would be drenched in sweat soon.

"Liar," Isabela crooned, unaffected by the declaration. "The worst is over. Let's get you tucked in, sweetness."

"Fuck you," Hawke mumbled dejectedly, wiping under her nose. She felt heavy all of a sudden, and had to catch herself from a stumble when she took a step forward. The shit was doing its thing, and Hawke was pissed off that she'd given in and taken it. "This shit is for the birds."

"Tweet tweet,  _Hawke_ ," Isabela laughed with a wink, taking her by the elbow to help her over to the bedroll.

_I walked right into that one._

"I certainly don't keep you around for your sense of humor," Hawke muttered as she slowly lowered herself to the ground. Any fast movement could have bad consequences, and she didn't want to tempt the Maker into playing a joke, too.

"Again, lies. You know you think I'm hilarious." Isabela laid down on her left, then reached over to pull Hawke's head onto her chest. "Want me to play with your hair, crybaby?"

"Yes," Hawke whispered, going under with the effects of the brew. She was too tired to even argue about being called a crybaby.

Fingers started massaging her scalp behind her ear, and Hawke felt her body melt against Bela's. She heaved a sigh of contentment despite the war raging on in her gut and veins. She could probably fall asleep like this, she could maybe fall… asleep.

* * *

Ellen was still in shock that she had seen and spoken with her sister, and hadn't said a word since she had walked away fifteen minutes ago. She hadn't looked any different to her, only taller. The height was something that they shared, even if Evelyn was a bit more filled out. Okay, a lot more filled out. Evelyn had a curve to her, and her breasts were twice the size of Ellen's. The storm mage frowned and looked down at the front of her light blue, muddy-hemmed robes. There was a small protrusion that made her noticeably female, but Evelyn had walked over to them with actual  _cleavage_ peeking out of the top of her leather vest.

Bethany was giving her a curious look, head tilted to one side as Ellen poked at her own chest in a dejected way. "El? What are you doing?" she asked her, and Ellen gave her a jerky shrug.

"You saw her. We look nothing alike, anymore. She actually has meat on her."

Bethany's inquisitive look softened into understanding, and she gave Ellen a gentle nudge in the side. "Stop it," she told her. "You grew up in different circumstances, and are different people. You're no less beautiful just because your sister has bigger breasts. Trust me, you're obviously twins, love."

Ellen opened her mouth to reply, but Bethany shut her up with a kiss, lightly tapping the younger mage's jaw when she pulled away. "Also, don't worry about it. You're the better looking one, anyway."

"You're biased," Ellen retorted, but she didn't hold back the smile the words gave her.

A toothy grin answered her, and Beth pressed a happy kiss to her cheek. "Completely," she readily agreed. "Wholly and fully."

The subject of their discussion streaked by at that moment, in a full run across the upper courtyard, and Ellen raised a hand to wave at her as she passed. Evelyn didn't slow down in her sprint, but called back over her shoulder about seeing them later because she had something important to do. A few moments later, they saw Evelyn reach into a shadowed corner and haul a blonde haired woman to her feet and practically carry her away and into a door on the far side of the yard. Ellen guessed that to be Sera, the lover her sister had mentioned earlier. And if Evelyn was kidnapping her lover in such a way, that could only mean one thing.

"I'm pretty sure I know what she's off to do, and I'm not a hundred percent sure I am okay with knowing what she's off to do," Ellen commented idly to Bethany. "But if she's off to do that, then that means they did something." She did not have to elaborate on "they", as Bethany knew exactly who she meant.

"You're being paranoid," the healer chuckled at her lover, shaking her head. "She was up there for maybe twenty minutes. What could they possibly have done in that small time frame? Especially including talking about Corypheus?"

"Maybe," Ellen allowed uncertainly, beginning to pace the spot in which they stood. She stopped in front of Beth and cocked her head to one side. "Do you think Hawke told her about his ability to control Grey Wardens?"

"I should hope so," Bethany muttered, rolling her eyes at her sister's stubborn streak. "It's certainly something the Inquisitor should know."

Ellen paused at Beth's usage of the title in reference to Evelyn. That was a mouthful of elfroot to choke down. Somehow, her twin had managed to become the most important person in Thedas, especially lacking an active (alive) Divine. Her intended noticed the pause, and lifted an eyebrow in question at the pensive look on the storm mage's face.

"Just hearing that," Ellen answered the silent question. "Inquisitor Trevelyan. Maker, I bet my father is livid that it was Evelyn instead of Max."

Bethany gave a short laugh, shaking her head again. "I was literally just wondering which daughter-in-law he would hate more," she confessed with a small grin. "Me, for being a mage; or Sera, for being an elf."

Ellen's mouth dropped open, and her eyes shot to the closed door that she'd seen Evelyn throw her lover into just a couple minutes before. She hadn't noticed that the girl was an elf. But to be fair, her eyesight had never been great, and she refused to wear her glasses for anything but reading in extended amounts of time.

"She was an elf?" she asked Bethany blankly, making Bethany sigh.

"How are you so bloody intelligent, yet so clueless at the same time?"

"I'm not clueless; I'm just… kind of blind, apparently."

"Apparently," Bethany echoed in good-natured sarcasm. "Come on, let's go take a walk around the castle. I'm curious about how massive this place really is."

* * *

"So, what did Ruffles mean about them being charming?" Sera asked Evelyn suspiciously when the human drew even with her on the steps out of the dungeons.

Evelyn groaned internally, not wishing this to come to heated words while she was trying to assume her role of peacemaker between Varric and Cassandra. "They're forward. Very forward," she answered noncommittally, but that didn't ease the squint of Sera's eyes on her. Evelyn sighed heavily in defeat. "Okay, they came on to me. It's apparently some joke or bet or something that they could bed me, all something to rile up Ellen."

Sera shifted her stance to her back foot, and her arms came up to fold over her chest as she stared at Evelyn silently, waiting for more of an explanation. Evelyn scowled at her. "It turned me on, okay? They caught me between them with all these sexy words, and they're gorgeous. It turned me on, and I came directly down from the tower after turning them down, and I found you. Happy?"

"Yep," the thief said in a satisfied way, emphatically popping the "p". A smug smile tugged at her full lips. "You told them you're taken, right?"

Evelyn gave her a nod, pushing her fingers through her hair, pulling out excess straw that was still tangled in it. "They were suggesting they lodge where I lodge, and I told them I share lodgings. I told them I have a lover that I don't wish to lose, and that she doesn't share."

Sera eased her stance, dropping her arms back to her sides. "And they said?"

"That you could join, too," Evelyn snickered, and Sera joined her in the laugh. "I told them it was kind of them to offer, but I still would have to refuse."

"Andraste's blooming knickers, you pick up some strange ones, Shiny."

Evelyn gave Sera a nudge in the ribs as she moved past her. "Well, I think it speaks volumes about me that I chose to keep  _you_ ," she joked, dodging the kidney punch Sera tried to give her. "I'll find you later to pay you back for that fantastic time."

"Go save Varric so we can have a drink later, yeah? I want to meet the charmers for myself." Sera caught Evelyn's wrist as she turned to leave, and pulled her back for a surprisingly sweet kiss. "I'm holding you to later," she added in a low tone as she pulled away. She stepped around Evelyn, giving her a light swat on the rear. "See ya, Teetness."

 _Teetness? Where did that one come from?_ Evelyn thought to herself, grinning as she watched the thief exit the door at the top of the stairwell. The wink that Sera gave her as the assassin passed the nook she'd found her in didn't ease the light feeling in her chest. She fell in love with her imp all over again every day, it seemed.

She knew Cass had set up a cot in the floors above the armory, and wondered if maybe they had met there. The castle was so large that they could literally be anywhere, but that was a good a place as any to start her search. As soon as she'd opened the door, she knew right away she had found them.

"That was the only thing I lied about!" Varric's voice was nearly soprano with indignance from above her head as she entered the building where a half-finished smelter sat abandoned by the stone workers. "Everything else I told you was the truth!"

Evelyn took off at a swift jog towards the stairs. She'd made it just in time, it sounded like.

"How can I believe that when I saw for myself Hawke, here by your request!"

Evelyn topped the stairs just in time to see Cassandra take a swing at Varric's head, the wind of it audible as he just barely ducked in time to miss her fist connecting with his jaw. "You lying little shit!" the warrior yelled, her face red and a visibly blue vein bulging from her right temple. "You knew where she was the entire time!"

"You're damn right I did!" Varric yelled back defiantly with a scowl on his handsome face, taking some steps back from the enraged Seeker. "She's had enough with you people putting shit on her and trying to get her killed."

"Hey!" Evelyn called out, clapping her hands loudly. "That's enough, both of you. You're adults, so act like it."

"Inquisitor," Cassandra growled lowly, glaring flames at Varric with her fists clenched tightly and her muscles coiled as if to spring at him. "Varric is a snake. A lying, good for nothing rogue who cares for naught but himself and his friends. We cannot trust him."

"Whoa," Varric interjected, obviously offended and holding up a hand to her. "That's kind of harsh, even from you, Seeker. I told you the truth about everything but the fact that my best friend was hiding because she was done playing hero."

"He has a point, Cass," Evelyn said gently. Varric had been an asset to the Inner Circle, both in commerce and information. And Evelyn believed him about having told all but Hawke's location. She couldn't blame him, either. She would have done the same thing in his shoes. "Varric has been very good to the Inquisition."

"You're taking his side?" Cassandra trilled, her eyebrows flying up into her hairline as she rounded on Evelyn.

Evelyn gave a firm shake of her head. "I'm not taking anyone's side. But this has to stop. We're a team. We're family, and I know you don't like it, but Varric is just as much my friend as you are. I'm not going to let the two of you come to blows over this nonsense."

Cassandra deflated, but the anger faded into a sort of sadness that she turned away from them to hide. "Just go, Varric," she said tiredly without looking back.

Varric gave Evelyn a regretful look, and slowly turned to make his way towards the stairs. "You know what I think?" he asked quietly before he descended. "If Hawke had been at that conclave, she'd be dead, too." He didn't wait to hear if either of them replied, just trudged down the steps without another look at them.

Cassandra waited until they heard the door open and shut downstairs before she even drew a breath to speak. "I believed him," she said hoarsely. "He spoon-fed me his bullshit, and I just swallowed it."

"That's what bothers you, isn't it?" Evelyn asked her softly, and she saw the older woman give a single nod.

"I never thought myself gullible. But that dwarf spun a tale, and I sat there and took it like gospel. I just thought that if he knew how badly we needed someone like Hawke to lead us, someone that the mages trusted, and maybe if I'd tried to explain it to him further, he'd have been honest. I feel like this is my fault."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Evelyn told her, moving to place a hand on her friend's armored shoulder. "No one is perfect. Not you, not Varric, not me."

Cassandra straightened up and turned around to face her. "I'm not disappointed that Hawke isn't Inquisitor. I'm not disappointed that we could not locate Tabris. I think that we have exactly the best person for the role, Evelyn."

Evelyn's face heated up, and she looked away from the intensity of the cinnamon eyes boring into her. "I try," she mumbled embarrassedly. She cleared her throat and looked back at the warrior, giving a jerk of her chin at her. "Are you going to be okay?"

Cassandra sighed, giving a long look towards the window at their right. "I am disappointed in him, and if I am honest, I am hurt."

Evelyn nodded slowly. "I think he knew that," she pondered aloud. "He seems guilty for it. He isn't ashamed of protecting Hawke, but he's upset about lying to you."

Cassandra gave a derisive snort and rolled her eyes. "I highly doubt that. He'll be off to have a crow with his friends with this story."

Evelyn didn't agree with the assessment, but she didn't argue with the woman, either. An awkward silence stretched between them, and Evelyn gave a glance at the stairs. But before she could announce her departure, Cassandra sighed heavily. "I almost forgot," she mumbled. "There is another matter to address. This Cole that appeared at Haven. I have spoken with Vivienne and Solas. I'd thought the boy a mage, given his abilities, but both of them disagree. We should seek them out and figure out what to do with him."

"What do you mean, 'do with him'?"

The Seeker leveled a stare at Evelyn, a serious countenance upon her sharp but beautiful features.

"It is a  _demon_ , Inquisitor."


	21. Chapter 21

"It seems Cole is a spirit," Solas concluded a long explanation that Evelyn had fought through to remain awake. "He appears to predate the Breach, possibly having been living as a young man for months, maybe years. I've never known any like him."

She had followed Cassandra from the smithy to collect Solas and Vivienne to discuss the boy that appeared ahead of Corypheus's forces at Haven. Though he looked to be a teenage boy, he was nothing as he appeared, that was the only thing that the two mages were able to agree upon.

"It is a demon," Vivienne corrected flatly, giving Solas a look of pure disdain. Evelyn did not miss the way her grey eyes lingered on his simple robes, her nose slightly wrinkling. "I suggest you allow me to banish it back to the Fade, Inquisitor."

_This pompous bitch… I don't have the patience to be polite to this cunt today. Maker give me strength._

Evelyn pinched the bridge of her nose, much in the same fashion that Solas touched his forehead at Vivienne's words. Though they'd talked little, the woman possessed the power to invoke a migraine of which Evelyn had never known. A shared look with Solas conveyed that he felt much the same.

Cassandra gave a grunt from beside her, turning and facing Vivienne. "I agree. We shouldn't let it linger overlong."

"He seemed capable of speaking for himself," Evelyn cut in, irritated that Cassandra was aligning herself with the intolerable loyalist. "Besides, in the time you've both been with the Inquisition, Solas is the one that has proved himself in the role of arcane advisement. You'll forgive me if I am predisposed to agree with his opinion." She didn't say it out of what small amount of manners she called forth, but it was implied: "I don't trust you, I don't like you, so what you have to say means little more than shit to me."

"You'll forgive  _me_ if I am not jumping at the chance to watch you drunkenly stumble your way around Thedas, making terrible decisions and providing horrific leadership, my dear," Vivienne shot back smoothly and without ire. She calmly ran her long fingers down the sleeves of her off-white gown, tugging gently at the fragile lace around her dark-skinned wrists. "I have some arrangements to make, so I will excuse myself while you erroneously allow this  _thing_ to remain in the castle. Good day to you all."

"And good riddance to you," Evelyn muttered darkly, glaring from beneath her eyelashes at the mage as she ascended the staircase back to the upper courtyard in all her superiority. That would be another one she'd have ended already if she were still the woman she'd been before the mark.

Cassandra grabbed her arm to catch her attention, the Nevarran's dark features pulled down into a deep frown. "If you're allowing this creature to remain merely out of your distaste for Vivienne–"

"I don't know what I'm doing," Evelyn snapped irritably, cutting her off. "I haven't made any decisions, and I won't until I speak to Cole. Where is he?"

Cassandra scoffed and withdrew her hand, crossing her arms over her chest. "It could be anywhere, if it didn't want to be found." It was said warningly, as if the Seeker were reminding her of exactly what danger the boy could pose.

Evelyn caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned to see the boy in the over-sized hat sitting cross-legged on the ground behind the refugee tents. She gave a glance at Cassandra before she started forward, a smug smile tugging at her lips. "Apparently he does want to be found."

Solas shared a grin with her, and she gave them both a wave as she left them to approach the boy alone. He was looking down at the ground, his face completely obscured by the wide rim of his hat, his pale hands picking at the blades of grass in front of him like a bored child, slightly rocking as he muttered under his breath. Evelyn didn't speak at first, choosing to lower herself to the ground beside him and listen, leaning back on her elbows as she watched him quietly.

"Haven. So many soldiers died to protect the pilgrims. Choking fear. Can't think for the medicine. The pain wracks me with every heart beat. I can't do this. I can't… I'm going to… I'm dying. Dead." His head moved slightly, shaking to one side. Evelyn still didn't speak, curious about this ability of his. "Every breath slower, like lying in a warm bath. Sliding away, going to sleep, smell of my daughter's hair… gone." He went silent, but still, Evelyn waited.

"They don't trust me," he mumbled after a moment. "But you and the old mage are willing to try."

"You helped us at Haven," Evelyn answered him, making a note of how he referred to Solas as an "old mage". Solas didn't seem particularly old to her, no older than Cassandra or Blackwall, anyway. "We wouldn't have been able to evacuate the civilians without your ability."

"I just want to help," he replied in an earnest tone. "It's all I've ever wanted to do." He stopped, the hat tilting to one side as he moved his head towards a soldier to their right. The woman was reaching for a flask of water just out of touch, too weak to move forward enough to grab it. "Brown, cracking, dry. Thirsty," he muttered to himself now, making Evelyn's eyebrow raise.

She watched him get to his feet and move to the soldier, helping her sip water much to the woman's relief as sounded in the grateful thanks that she gave him when she was done. It was honestly one of the sweetest displays of care she'd ever seen.

"You use your abilities as a spirit to help people?"

"Yes. I used to think I was the real Cole, or his ghost. I made mistakes, but I made friends, too. Then the old templar told me what I really am. That I wasn't real. I lost my friends. I lost everything. I learned to be more like what I really am, and it made me… different, stronger. I… feel more. But I still want to help."

_He's a special sort of spirit. I can't explain it but I feel for this kid._

Then Cole's head turned again, and the muttering began about the dying people around them, some boy's death being a woman's fault because she was busy kissing someone in a barn. Evelyn scratched her head, pulling the curtain of her hair over her shoulder to see clearly when Cole approached one of the volunteers, a woman in her thirties or better.

"It wasn't your fault," he told the woman, who turned to look at him like he was insane. "Him dying would have happened even if you'd not been in the barn."

"I'm sorry?" she asked suspiciously, taking a step back from him as if she wanted to run.

He scoffed lightly and shook his head at himself. "That wasn't right. Let me try again." He squared his shoulders and looked the woman in the eyes. "The soldiers were never going to live, just like your brother was never going to live. There was nothing to be done, and it's not your fault."

The woman's face slackened, and her gaze became distant. She slowly turned and drifted away, going to tend to another wounded man without so much as a glance back at Cole and the Inquisitor. Evelyn drew in a breath to speak, but Cole interrupted before she could.

"Don't worry. She won't remember me."

It was said with a deep sadness, one that made Evelyn's heart ache for him. She was never much for hugging anyone (aside from Sera, but touching her in any way made Evelyn soar, so she didn't count), but everything inside of her yelled for her to pull the kid to her and squeeze him. "That was impressive," she said after a moment's silence.

"It's how I know they need me," he answered, looking up at her from beneath the rim of his hat. "It's how I can help."

_I can't send this precious being away. I can't. I'm sorry, Cass._

"You can stay and help, Cole. You're welcome here."

He didn't acknowledge the permission, only turned his head once more, again to a soldier lying on a bedroll nearby. "Burning, aching, please someone just stop the pain," he mumbled, moving towards the man he was watching. His hand went to his hip and pulled a small dagger from its sheath, and Evelyn took a step forward to try and stop him, but Cole paused and addressed her. "He's going to die, but it will take hours. He is in agony."

Evelyn stilled her hand, then slowly pulled it back to herself as she eyed the soldier for herself. His dark skin was indeed graying, his wounds seeping through the wraps, his eyes rolling around the sky above him as if looking for something frantically. Finally, after a moment, she gave a nod to Cole. "Help him," she said softly, and the boy moved forward and quickly ended the soldier's pain without hesitation.

"I want to stay." It was said simply, but Evelyn knew that it was much more. He needed to belong, needed a tether that she was willing to provide as long as he did nothing to change her mind. "And you can hug me, if you really wish," he added in a tone that was bordering on confused, as if he had no idea why she'd want to.

Evelyn immediately gave in and crushed the kid to her. "Thank you for helping."

The answer was given almost bashfully at her shoulder. "It's what I do."

A few minutes later, she was walking back up the steps with Cassandra, who was giving her the silent treatment as loudly as she could. Evelyn gave her the side eye, calculating if she should poke the bear or let it be. "Cass," she said, getting no answer. "You made me Inquisitor," she reminded her a few beats later in a lighthearted tone.

"And I do not question it, even now," came a terse reply in that crisp accent. "I just don't trust that demon." Her face screwed up into a deeply disbelieving expression. "I cannot fathom how you  _embraced_ it."

"Then trust me," Evelyn implored, coming to a halt on the steps and grabbing Cassandra's arm to stop her, as well. She didn't take the bait about the hug, instead trying to make peace.

The warrior deflated a bit, and gave a stiff nod. "I do trust you. I just–"

"Cass," Evelyn said plaintively again, nudging her friend in the ribs.

The warrior's mouth couldn't help but to tug up slightly on one side, and she rolled her eyes as she scoffed lightly. "All right, Evelyn."

* * *

The book had been boring and confusing even before Shiny had appeared from nowhere to haul her off for some fun, but now that Sera was back to the book while Shiny did her big-hat thing… it was even worse. The words on the page seemed to blur together as her memory replayed what happened in the dungeons over and over. She'd never seen her so… so… she didn't even know what to call it. The whole thing was just…  _woof_.

Remembering what Evelyn had said to her, about her being the best thing that ever happened to her, it did things to her inside. Like, in her chest. And in her breeches, honestly. When Shiny had said she didn't mean to say it, but that it was true, it made it mean that much more to Sera. It was said without intent, without motive. She'd said it simply because she felt it.

"Cheeky," Sera murmured fondly to herself, smiling softly. She was completely ignoring the open book of human stuff she was trying to read by now, head back against the stone wall behind her, eyes zoned out on the sky. It wasn't anything new, getting zoned out on the thought of Evelyn. It was hard not to, when she was so pretty to think about naked; really hard not to when the sex was so frigging  _grand_ between them.

But it was other things, too.

Her mind flashed to when Bull's lumpy arse had hauled her away from Evelyn as she faced down a freaking  _archdemon_ and its frigging  _darkspawn_ master  _alone_. How readily her Shiny had been willing to sacrifice herself so that everyone could live to fight another day. So that  _Sera_ would live. She'd spared Seggrit a fiery death by pleading with Evelyn just that tiny bit, too; she knew Evelyn was going to just walk away and let him die for the things he'd said about the thief. The change that was happening in Evelyn, so significant in the few months the Inquisition had been thriving, she knew that it had something to do with the way the assassin seemed to open up for her, and her alone.

 _No one has ever put me above themselves like that,_ she thought to herself with an unexplainable tightness inside her breastbone.  _Maybe she feels the same way I do? Like, maybe she… loves me back?_

She snapped the book in her lap shut with a huff of laughter at herself.  _Daft. Never thought it could be like this. Dunno what to do with it, really. Feels good, so far, besides that time in Redcliffe, but that's not gonna happen again. Next fight with her, I'm gonna keep my bits together._

The sound of boots on the grass caught her attention, and she looked up to see a guard slow his pace as he passed by her, giving her narrowed eyes as he did.  _The ears, I bet,_ she thought to herself just a tad sourly. She stuck her tongue out at him and crossed her eyes as she used her index fingers to make horns on top her head, making them wiggle as she pulled the face on him.

He stopped and turned to her, his upper lip curling back as he tossed his red cape back to expose his sword at his side. Sera took it as the threat it was, and couldn't stop her grey-green eyes from rolling on their own.

_Yep. The ears. The nerve on this tit._

"Is there a problem here, elf?" he asked in a strong Ferelden accent from behind a red, scruffy spattering of hair on his young face.

Her fingers of her left hand reached towards her bow on the ground beside her as she made a gesture with her right to keep his eyes focused on that movement. "Not if you don't wanna make one," she answered with a slight edge to her voice, almost challenging.

This tit was obviously new to the Inquisition to not know who she was, as much as the very thought made her cringe. She didn't sign up to be in the Inner Circle, or whatever; nor had she done so to end up being the Inquisitor's lover, though that's what happened in both counts.

"If you're causing trouble in the castle, it's my duty to put a stop to it," he began imperiously, but her burst of laughter cut him off as he stared at her, wide eyed in bewilderment.

"Blow it out your arse," she told him when her giggles had subsided. She couldn't take this kid seriously, racist or not. "You picked the wrong set of ears in this courtyard, you dung-for-brains goat herder."

He opened his mouth to reply but she was already getting to her feet and pulling her quiver over one shoulder. "You know," she said conversationally, cutting him off again as she put the book into her bag and picked up her bow. "If you've got a thing about ears and shite like that, you may be in the wrong place, mate."

With that, she pushed past him and started wandering towards the stairs to the battlements. There seemed to be less traffic up there, and she knew that when Evelyn was in her role as Herald, Inquisitor or whatever, that it would be some time before she would be free again.

It was getting later in the day, the sun was settling in all snug behind the mountains to the west, and the air was thinner up on the walkways around the top of Skyhold, brisker, and it made her give a shiver. The view was nice, though, all the little camps beyond the walls crawling with people that looked like ants from this far away. She leaned against the jut of wall to her left, just looking down at the little people, the people she tried to help and protect. Her duties had become lots of reading and writing, with Jennies and Friends alike sending correspondence to her like she was the big hat, herself. Her answers and actions went out in the form of orders sent, but her reach was wider than it had ever been. She was used to being the sole Jenny in Val Royeaux, a city bigger than it deserved to be, but to be the one that ended up in something as important as the Inquisition?

She gave a sigh, turning and walking on. She missed being active and pulling pranks, the last one having been months before, when she put lizards in Baldy's bedroll. And it hadn't even been funny because he didn't react to it at all, just mentioned it one day when they were walking around the Hinterlands when she accused him of screwing with her head. She frowned when she recalled the words he said. Something about her being less than she was supposed to be, like the sobby egghead was telling her she had magic or something.

_What does he know? I don't have shite in common with him. Sobby, whinging, elfy tit._

The thief turned a corner towards one of the large towers that loomed overhead, nearly crashing into someone she'd not noticed walking her way because she was so deep in her thoughts. Their cry of surprise pulled her back to reality as two hands came up and pushed gently against her torso to stop her from impacting.

"Whoa!" The voice was familiar, like it was one she knew well but it was different all at once. "Sorry about that."

When Sera's eyes focused, she knew exactly why. At first glance, she honestly thought it was Shiny, and that she had cut her hair in the few hours or so since they parted ways. But the face was also slightly different, just like the voice. It was thinner, the cheekbones slightly more defined; the nose, mouth, chin, and especially the eyes were exactly the took a step back, her mouth falling open a bit in the shock of finally seeing for herself that Shiny indeed had a twin, and she was flesh and blood.

"You're Shiny's sister," she blurted out without thinking. The next thing that came to mind was that she was a mage, and that thought made her wince outwardly while she cringed internally.

"Shiny? Evelyn?" The twin gave a chuckle, shaking her head and turning to look at the woman standing next to her that Sera hadn't even noticed. "That's a very fitting nickname for her." She looked back at the shocked elf standing in front of her, reaching out a hand. "That would make you Sera, then? Ellen Trevelyan, pleasure to meet you."

Sera looked at her hand, thinking about how Evelyn had talked about Ellen accidentally burning her once when they were kids. But it was her sister. She had to be nice. She had to be. It wasn't up for debate.

_Then why won't I just friggin' grab her hand?_

Right when she made to reach out, she remembered where her hands had been not long before, and snickered at the irony. "I, uh, would shake your hand and whatever, but you might wanna wait until they have a wash."

The way that red shot through Ellen's cheeks as she hastily pulled her hand back to herself told the thief that she knew exactly what she'd meant by that. "Oh, right. We saw her take off with you earlier." She shot a dirty look at the giggle the other woman gave, covering her mouth when Ellen turned her eyes on her.

_Her eyes are just like Shiny's. That's kinda creepy, to be honest. Twins. Huh._

The silent war that they held after Ellen had turned her to look at her friend caused Sera's eyes to turn to her, as well. Once the black haired woman saw Sera staring, she gave a little start and broke the conversation she was having with the twin. "I'm sorry, how rude of me," she said kindly, giving a smile. "I'm Bethany Hawke."

"My intended," Ellen added in clarification, also looking back to Sera.

"Like, the Champion's sister?" Sera asked, scratching her head. She remembered the name from Varric's stories about his Kirkwall adventures, but after initially introducing her, her referred to her as Sunshine. From the smile and nice way she spoke, Sera could see where the nickname may have derived. But she also remembered that this one was a friggin' mage, too.

 _Great, two of them. Shiny owes me for this. Can't believe I'm standing here alone with_ two  _friggin' curtain wearers._

"Yes, but a word to the wise: don't call her that. It's just Hawke, to her," Bethany chuckled, shaking her head. "I'm sure you'll meet her soon, if you haven't already."

Sera crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow with the thought that went through her head. She was already had half a mind to not like Hawke or her lover, seeing as they were trying to get into Shiny's pants the moment they met her. "Oh, yeah, lookin' forward to tellin' her and the pirate to step off my Shiny."

"I TOLD YOU THEY DID SOMETHING!" Ellen yelled suddenly, flipping around and pointing a triumphant finger at Bethany. Sera jumped sky high, watching closely for any sign of magic from the girl's hands just by reflex. Why couldn't they just sit on their hands all the time?

"Damn it, I should have put coin on that!" She turned back to Sera, oblivious to the thief's reaction to her outburst, shaking her head. "They do it on purpose to piss me off. It's some goal of theirs to sleep with her because she's the Herald of Andraste."

"They're going to piss  _me_  off, and when I'm pissed I get really creative." She wrinkled her nose, what Ellen said about their motive sinking in. "What d'ya mean, because she's the Herald? It's not like it's done something to her…  _down there._ " She made a gesture at her crotch to indicate what she meant, and the twin's nose scrunched up in disgust.

"I learned long ago it is useless to try and understand my sister or Isabela. They're definitely peas in a pod," Bethany told her fondly, pulling her cloak tighter around herself.

"That's some crazy peas," Ellen muttered to herself, rolling her eyes. She shrugged out of her own grey cloak and tossed it over her lover's shoulders without her even requesting it. The gesture was achingly familiar to Sera, whom had been the recipient of Evelyn's long leather coat many times over when she would shiver beside her.

Sera noticed then that it was getting even colder, quickly now that the sun was nearly completely down. It was probably almost dinner time, and her stomach gave a growl at the thought. She knew the kitchen was cleaned out and usable now, she had heard Ruffles hire the new cook that very morning. The thought of food had her nearly salivating as she looked over her shoulder towards the Great Hall where the long tables had been placed. Between the small bite in the wind and the hunger that hit her out of nowhere, she was ready to go inside.

"Well, it was… grand… to meet you. See you around, yeah?" She made to turn and head back the way she came, but Ellen's voice stopped her.

"Could you show us where to go for dinner? This place is pretty big, easy to get turned around to a dead end. We found a few today."

 _Fiddlesticks up a troll's bum! Shit. Shit. Shitshitshit._ She turned her back to them to hide the contortions her face instinctually pulled, chewing her lip furiously in nerves while her eyes darted around the plain stone walls around them as if she were going to find a reason to say "no" floating around in the air.

_If I don't show 'em, Shiny is gonna be pissed at me. They're not just a couple of mages. It's Shiny's sister, and she just found her again. Friggin' hell, I have to do this._

"Yeah," she heard herself say weakly without turning to face them again. She kicked the hell out of herself in her mind as she did so, but knew that any other response was going to cause a shit show when she and Evelyn were alone that night. "This way."

* * *

**Edge of the Western Approach**

Kallian didn't know which she hated worse: darkness or sand.

It got everywhere. It was in her boots, in her bag, in her bedroll, in her hair, and Andraste's tits–in her  _fucking_ knickers. There was a piece of herself that wished she still bore the taint just so she could understand this noise Oghren described, the call that was pulling them westward and further into the desert. But the bigger piece of herself was relieved that she was rid of it, honestly, even if it made her feel guilty for it. The conversation between them had dwindled the further out they traveled, until it became one sided questions from Kal, noncommittal grunts from Oghren, and low, questioning whines from Little.

Oghren didn't even speak when they were camped down at night, he just sat and stared at the flames of their fire, sometimes shaking his head and mumbling to himself. It was starting to scare Kal, and it made Little just as fidgety. The hound would circle camp, whuffing softly at any noise instead of her usual deep bark. It was almost as if she were nervous about disturbing the dwarf so deep down in his thoughts. Kallian used the silence to distract herself with memories, mostly about Leliana, and some about Morrigan, another piece of her past that she missed deeply. She thought about her father, her cousins, Alistair, about Denerim in general. There was sense of longing there, wanting to visit again, but it was pale in comparison to the raging need inside of her to be with Leliana again. The urge to touch her was excruciating, like it was a burning sensation in her lower belly that refused to subside.

When she would think about the warmth of the woman against her side as they sat before the fire at a camp, the smell of her hair after their watch had ended and they shared a bedroll…

It ached.

…it  _really_ fucking hurt.

This night she assuaged the pain with thinking heavily about happier times. Well, it could have been happier without being attacked by werewolves, and then somehow bartering with a spirit and a Keeper to free the remaining wolves from the curse. But despite those horrors, the day had ended on one of the sweetest notes of her entire twenty-nine summers.

In the course of events that day, they happened upon a werewolf on the trail that was the wife of one of the elves back at the Dalish camp. She begged her for death, and as it was hours before they had even met the spirit, Kallian had sorrowfully ended the poor creature's life. After she helped in ending the curse, thus freeing them from their wolfish forms forever, she'd felt sick that she hadn't waited; that she'd ended that woman's life, and broken her husband's heart. The lost look in the man's eyes as he robotically took the scarf his wife had sent back to him haunted the duelist to no end, even ten years later.

But that night? That night could soothe the worst of pain in Kallian's heart.

* * *

**Outskirts of the Brecilian Forest, 9:31 Dragon**

Leliana, Morrigan, and Alistair had been with her in the forest and bore witness to what transpired. The shame that her lover's beautiful icy eyes were on her as she killed the werewolf bothered her. She wished with everything inside of her that she had left Leliana in the safety of the Dalish camp, but the archer wouldn't have heard it even if Kal had tried. Now, especially since they had acknowledged the… relationship (Maker, that word was still a hard one for Kal to say, even when she was crazy about Leliana)… between them, Leliana had made even more an effort to be with her whenever she faced danger head on.

Morrigan cornered her the moment they entered the Dalish camp once it was all over, shooting an icy glance at Leliana and Alistair, wordlessly telling them both to get lost. She glared after them as they walked away then when she was satisfied with their distance, she turned her stern, ageless gaze onto Kal.

"Why do you mope so?" Morrigan's uniquely scathing tone was coloring into curiosity from their private chats as of late, and Kal could hardly count herself surprised about becoming closer to the mage. The strange girl had saved her tanned arse enough by now that she trusted Morrigan, even if there was a tiny voice in the back of her mind that reminded her it might not be a good thing that she did.

Kallian shrugged dejectedly, kicking at a rock in the grass near the gate. "They were cured. They were cured and she wasn't because I–"

"–did what she asked of you?" Morrigan finished for her, raising an eyebrow with a certain glint to her yellow eyes. "T'was nothing you could do. Her mind was already made. If you had not killed her, she would have merely attacked, forcing our hands in the matter. T'would be best to let this go."

Kal's shoulders sagged even deeper as she gave a heavy sigh. Despite the fact that they were of the same age, Morrigan eerily possessed the wisdom of someone twice her experience. But there was still the hardest part to come; Morrigan did not own the compassion that Kal harbored and therefore could not understand her perspective. "I have to give him the scarf," she said quietly to the witch. "We can speak later."

"Let another perform this task," Morrigan said dismissively as they began to walk together, "if it is so difficult for you."

"I can't. As much as it pisses you off, it's just me and how I work. I have to be the one. You know that."

Kallian went silent and swallowed hard, lifting her head and squaring her shoulders as they crossed the camp. She was working really hard to keep her confidence palpable, as she was so shaken by the day's events. Out of nowhere a few moments later, fingers slid through hers, and Kal looked to her right to see Leliana there with a knowing look in her sky blue eyes. Kal gave her a small, but grateful and genuine smile, squeezing the slender fingers intertwined with hers.

Her fire-haired bard always knew, always; even since the beginning. After finally hearing the full truth about Leliana's less-than-stellar past and meeting Marjolaine for herself a few weeks back, she knew now how her lover could so effortlessly read her; but it never ceased to amaze her or stop her from falling head over heels for the red head. In the seven months since she'd run across the enigmatic bard, it had only served to amplify the affections Kal held for the older woman. She was lost to the feelings she had developed for the tenor-voiced seductress, and instead of becoming commonplace and boring, she found herself in deeper every day. She was in love for the first time in her eighteen summers.

Hours later, after the horror of seeing a man crack, it was well into the night in their own camp when they'd departed the Dalish clan for Orzammar. Kallian was none closer to sleep than she had been that morning, so she immediately volunteered to take first watch. No one was surprised when Leliana echoed her in pure reflex. Morrigan in particular couldn't help giving her customary scoff and eye roll. The witch had not kept her disdain for the "songbird" a secret, but knew well enough not to comment, anymore. That had been an awkward conversation between them, the first time Kallian had acknowledged that she was in love with Leliana. Morrigan had merely expressed her pity for Kal, and had not brought the subject up again.

But now Wynne was beginning let her eyes linger on the two lovers for a tad second longer than would be counted as normal, and Kallian knew that the old shem was just waiting for a moment to pull her to the side about what was happening between her and Leliana. It was only a matter of timing, Kallian suspected. That night wouldn't be the one, however. Unlike the other mage in their company, Wynne  _was_ compassionate, as well as wise. She wouldn't bother Kallian after the day she'd had.

She had no idea why the fire cleared so quickly; usually they all sat around in fellowship–well, aside from Sten, Shale, and Morrigan– for a while before they would go to bed, one by one. Maybe it was because her sullen mood was so apparent, maybe they wanted to give the two time to talk. Kallian suspected Wynne had told Zevran to cut his jokes short that evening, because even he went to his tent without so much as a lewd wink at the two of them. Whatever the reason, everyone went to their tents early, leaving Kal and Leliana seated by each other in front of the small fire.

They were quiet for a while, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, and Leliana had already leaned her weight into Kallian for warmth and simple physical contact. So far as Kal could tell, there were no indicators that Leliana was disgusted with her for what she'd done.

 _Doesn't mean I'm not disgusted with myself,_ she thought to herself with a scoff under her breath.

"Today just fucking sucked." Kallian's voice cut through the ambient sound of the flames and forest around them. "It's like I'm damned if I do, and damned if I don't. It doesn't matter what I do." Her voice was flat, monotone. Then she lowered it and admitted, "I hate that you saw me do it."

"Kal," Leliana began in a hushed voice, but Kallian gave a firm shake of her head. She didn't want to hear Leliana placate her with pretty words. She would rather her push her away and call her a murderer for what she did. "Stop that," she went on anyway, ignoring the silent request for her to not.

A roll of nausea went through her gut, and she swallowed bile that rose in the back of her throat. She was in love with Leliana, and couldn't bear watching her walk away from her, but it would be no less than she felt she deserved. She'd spent the last seven months since their first kiss wondering what in Andraste's blooming knickers the bard saw in her, anyway.

"Stop that," Leliana said again, more firmly this time. "You don't deserve the things you're telling yourself in your head. You couldn't have known, Kal."

"Doesn't it bother you that I did it without even stopping to think 'what if'?"

"She was in pain, Kallian. You showed her the compassion she begged for, gave her peace in agreeing to return her keepsake to her husband." Leliana burrowed her nose into Kal's neck, placing a soft kiss just above her clavicle, her body giving a shiver in reaction. "It was noble. You were merciful, yes? It wasn't for malice, passion, or gold." Her tone was sad, and Kallian heard the underlying meaning in her lover's words: "You're not  _me_."

Kallian's chest swelled with emotion, and she couldn't stop the few tears that slid down her cheeks a moment later, tears for herself and for Leliana. "You'd think I'd be used to the killing thing by now," she half sobbed, half laughed, raking her bangs back from her eyes. "Darkspawn are nothing. I can cut them down without any emotion at all. But sentient, living beings that don't deserve it? I still hate it just as much as I ever did."

Her bard pulled back and used her thumbs to brush away her tears, a small smile on her face and a very personal, tender expression in her eyes. "My Warden," she murmured affectionately, leaning forward and gently locking lips with her. "How I love you," she whispered against her mouth a moment later. The words tasted as sweet in Kallian's shared breath with the bard as they sounded in her sensitive ears.

And how those simple words changed everything inside of her.

Kallian's next breath caught in her throat, and her heart began to beat harder in her chest, making it difficult to breathe for a few moments, her throat and mouth working soundlessly. Since she couldn't find her voice or the air to answer, she leaned forward just that little bit and caught Leliana's lips with hers, kissing her much more enthusiastically now. She tried to demonstrate with her kiss what she couldn't say, and judging by the way Leliana kissed her back just as ardently, her message was well received.

She had to pull away to try and draw a breath, her head was reeling from the lack of air, and she felt like she was going to fall out right there beside Leliana. She pulled in air through her nose, panting slightly as she fisted her hands on the edges of Leliana's leather armor, holding the bard that much closer to her. For her to say such a powerful thing when she'd seen the worst of Kallian was halting, and it was a few more moments before Kallian could try to utter a reply.

"Leliana, I—"

A hand coming up to touch her mouth stopped her words, and a low, imploring whisper met her ears. "Don't say anything you don't mean, please? I cannot bear it."

Kallian gently removed the barrier from her lips, placing a light kiss on her lover's knuckles. " _Je t'aime._  You are my world, Leliana. Never doubt that, ever. You mean so much to me." She leaned forward and pressed her lips against the bard's slackened jaw.

"I… your Orlesian is getting better." Leliana was flustered, and it made Kallian chuckle to herself. There was a darkened tint to her porcelain cheeks, and her lips were puckered as she tried to hold back a wide smile at the words. Kal loved every bit of it. Every bit of  _her_.

"I've had a very…  _thorough_ teacher," Kal husked back, her mind suddenly very much clear of "then", and full of "now".

The suggestion did not go unheeded, as Leliana's eyes darkened and her eyelids fell low. "It helps to have such an  _attentive_ pupil." She leaned forward and nipped at Kallian's lower lip, just barely grazing her teeth across it. It was enough to send a slight buzz through her. " _Je ne peux pas attendre pour vous enseigner ce soir."_

" _I can't wait to teach you tonight."_

The words translated fluidly for the elf, and she swallowed hard at the double entendre they held. " _Oui,_ " she whispered back. " _Moi aussi._ "


	22. Chapter 22

Ellen followed behind the slender form of her sister's lover with a curious gaze taking her in. She wasn't as pretty as she imagined she would be. She had imagined a feminine, long haired beauty. She had imagined someone learned, someone that dressed in silk and walked with grace, not this gangly, skinny girl in a mustard stained smock. A slight sense of guilt settled over her when she realized she was profiling Sera with the eyes of a Trevelyan, and the thought made her feel sick to her stomach.

 _I'm better than them. Better than_ him.

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and gently nibbled it in thought, wondering why her knee jerk reaction to the girl was such critical judgment. It was unusual. Was it because, alongside Bethany, Evelyn was the most important person in the world to her? Her expectations for a partner for Ev would be most likely unrealistically high, so she doubted anyone of flesh and blood would meet the standard in her mind. Ellen shook her head at herself, feeling Bethany's fingers gently squeeze down on hers to help her ground herself. Glancing over and catching the warm brown eyes of her intended with her own, she felt the guilt fade and the return of her senses when Beth gave her a supportive smile.

With a more open mind, Ellen turned her blue green gaze back to their guide, and surveyed the girl again. She was slender, but her slight frame moved in such a way beneath her red shirt that suggested she was corded in muscle much in the way Evelyn was. Her thighs hinted the same; they looked strong, and Ellen would stake her life that the elf was nimble and fast. The bow and quiver strapped across her back was telling of her usefulness, her role in the Inquisition. She was likely a scout, or maybe even traveled with Evelyn.

 _Probably that one, yeah,_ she thought to herself with a tiny grin.  _Evelyn never let me out of her sight as children, so I know how protective she is when she loves someone. And her eyes told me all I need to know when she told me about Sera earlier. My sister is smitten with this woman._

Her fond little grin slowly fell when she noticed something else about Sera: she was totally fucking nervous. Not like, "I'm meeting my future in-laws" nervous; she was borderline scared. Her posture was stiff as an iron rod, her shoulders moving up and down under the rapid breath that Ellen could now hear increasing in front of her. Then the archer jerked to a halt and spun around on her heel. Her face was red, and she was starting to sweat, her short blonde hair sticking to her forehead. Her greyish-greenish eyes were dilated a bit, not too widely, but enough that Ellen took a step back, pulling Bethany with her.

"Look," Sera said bluntly, shaking her head. "I can't do this. I tried, you're Shiny's sister and shite, I have to try. But I'm not ready and I need some time or somethin', yeah?"

Confusion flooded through Ellen, and she shot an incredulous look at Bethany, but her lover was gazing at Sera with a sad, understanding look. "What…? I don't understand," she stammered, looking back and forth between the two women on the ramparts with her.

"Sera," Bethany said softly, giving her a small, encouraging smile. "It's okay, I understand. Take all the time you need. Thank you for trying, though."

The elf's mouth opened, a surprised look crossing her features, but she visibly relaxed a little. She had obviously been terrified of their reaction to whatever she meant by what she said, and as Ellen's brain finally caught up to the exchange happening in front of her, it hit her like a bronto to the face.

Magic.

She was scared of magic, and by proxy, scared of them.

A gasp fell out of her mouth involuntarily, and then her face heated in anger. "Wait a bloody fucking minute," she demanded, taking a step forward but going no further when Bethany clamped down on her fingers and tugged her back. "Are you serious?"

"Ellen," Bethany said firmly. "Don't overreact. It's fine."

"It's not fine," she argued, lowering her tone, anyway. She shot a nasty look at Sera, noticing how far the girl had stepped back without taking her eyes off the pair of mages with her, her posture rigid once again with her hand slightly behind her. Her eyes were darting rapidly back and forth between them, not missing a single breath either of them took.

Ellen felt betrayed. Her sister, her twin, had chosen someone that was terrified of her very nature. She knew what fear of magic cultivated. It cultivated nothing but hate and persecution. It had created the Circles and the Templar Order, something that Evelyn had professed to hate, and even supported the ending of both. But she was bedding this girl? Glowing when she spoke of her? Ellen's head was spinning. It wasn't right. It just wasn't.

_I could give her a reason to be afraid of magic, but Evelyn would never forgive me for scaring her lover like that. Evelyn… why…? Why her?_

"How could she?" she whispered to herself, but the elf heard it. Ellen watched the fear melt away as the meaning behind the three words slowly sunk in, replaced by a fury she'd only seen a handful of times in her life, usually on her father, Evelyn, Hawke or Isabela.

"How could she what?" Sera yelled, her fists balling up at her sides, and stretching to her full height. It wasn't much, considering the four inch difference that made Ellen taller, anyway.

"Nothing," Bethany said quickly, shifting between the two with Ellen behind her. "Let's go back to taking time. Let's all do that."

Usually Ellen would subside her mouth at this point, when Bethany physically involved herself. But she couldn't help it. She was hurt. And pissed off at Evelyn. She was a traitor. "How could my sister choose someone like you?" She finished the thought waspishly, slinging it at Sera as if were a bolt from her hand, but the archer didn't back down one bit.

"You don't know me." Sera said it dangerously, her eyes flashing as if she merely absorbed the invisible bolt and shot it back, a finger jabbing out at Ellen defiantly. "And the first thing you should learn is that  _no one_ questions me and Shiny, magic or no magic. No one. Not even you."

Ellen's throat went dry at the words and the emotion with which they were said. It was painfully clear to her that Evelyn wasn't the only one head over heels, and it didn't make the ache in her gut lessen. It made it worse. A new emotion suddenly gripped her, a fear that stole her next breath.

"Don't make her choose," she blurted out, her tone plaintive unto the point of almost begging. Something inside of her knew that if Sera asked, Evelyn would never look her way again, and that was more gutting than the thought of her being with someone that hated her. "I just got her back. Please."

There was a flicker of something in the elf's steely expression, then all of sudden she just deflated completely, her shoulders sagging. "You don't know me," she repeated without the ire. The meaning didn't have to be elaborated upon; the girl loved her sister too much to ask something like that of her, no matter how she felt about it.

It gave Ellen cause to pause.

"You don't know me, either," she pointed out a beat later, and the elf's face screwed up with the truth in the words. "Give us a chance to change that."

"That's fair," Sera finally said after a few moments of thought. "But not today. Later." A gruff goodbye and a reluctant wave, and the elf was turning on her heel and hurrying off without them or a backward a glance.

Silence engulfed the two of them as they watched her disappear around the corner and down the stairs situated there. Bethany released a long breath that she had probably been holding the whole time. "Well," she said to break the silence. "It could have gone worse."

"It could have gone better, too," Ellen muttered, reaching up to touch the bridge of her nose. "I feel like Evelyn is not going to like how that went. And I honestly don't know which of us she is going to blame."

"Yeah, you both could have handled it a bit differently. I tried."

"I know, love. Thank you. A piece of me wanted to coat myself in flame just to get her to run away." Ashamed as she was to admit it aloud, it was true and she wanted Bethany to know.

"That would not have helped anything, and I am so pleased that you did not in fact give your sister's lover a stroke as a first impression," Bethany said dryly, shaking her head at Ellen. "It wouldn't have done for her to draw her own weapon, either. I am pretty sure she was debating on it."

"Wouldn't blame her, really," Ellen sighed, moving forward again after giving Sera plenty of time to make her escape from them. "From her perspective, she was literally facing her fears of upset mages thinking about using magic on her." She shrugged at the proud look Beth gave her for her deductions. "Self preservation, you know?"

"I do," she said factually with a nod, keeping the slow pace Ellen set for them as they walked together. "Exactly why I had to step between you. I'll be damned if I stand to the side while someone pulls a bow on you."

Ellen stopped and turned to face Beth fully, releasing her hand to cup her face instead. She leaned her forehead down to rest against hers, her lips curling into a contented smile. "You're braver and bolder than anyone gives you credit for, do you know that? Your sweetness and gentle sarcasms outshine the animal hiding inside of you."

Bethany rubbed her nose against Ellen's lovingly, giving an almost inaudible chuckle at her observation. "That's because it only ever comes out in regards to two people." She bit her lip, reaching up and curling her fingers in the front of Ellen's blue robes. "And as much as I hate to admit this… I would hate to lose my sister. I would be gutted. But I could heal, if I had you. If I lost you, though, if you left me here with Marian, it would be more than being gutted. It would be losing everything inside of me that is good and happy, and I would be left a shell."

The fingers clutching her robes let go, and instead tangled themselves in her hair, Bethany's other arm looping around her to pull her as close as possible. "I guess I would tear someone's throat out with my bare hands to keep you safe," she finished in a whisper against Ellen's lips.

There was the honest answer to the question she had posed to Bethany earlier that day, and the sincerity of the declaration was palpable in the kiss that followed it. It was hard, almost bruising, accentuated by the bite that Bethany gave her bottom lip before she pulled away to start walking again, leading this time because Ellen was still in a daze from the words and the kiss.

_Animal. And I fucking love it._

"Could I maybe hold that thought for later?" Ellen asked the older woman, who chuckled to herself.

"By all means, Trevelyan."

* * *

There was a certain tang to the smell of a well adorned druffalo roast that made the taste buds on Evelyn's tongue do a dance when she inhaled the aroma. Add that to the fact that her sister was seated directly to her left the long table placed in the recently cleared out Great Hall, and it made for one uncharacteristically jovial Evelyn at the dinner table a few hours after dealing with the Cole situation. She was so wrapped up in her good feelings that she barely noticed the stony silence between Sera and Ellen after they told her that they had bumped into each other already. So wrapped up that she didn't notice the scathing looks shared between Varric and Cassandra further down the table.

She was enthusiastically stuffing her face with freshly cooked meat at the head of the table, listening to Ellen and Bethany's tale of their escape from Kirkwall. When the part about Cullen allowing them to leave without giving chase came up, Evelyn shot a look down the table to the other end, where the man sat directly facing her. The reintroduction between he and them had been awkward to say the least, and now he was tucking into his plate as if he were the only one in the room, obviously keen to get away.

She owed him so much. She owed him the life sitting next to her talking animatedly now. At the sound of his name, he dared a glance up to the top of the table, and he caught Evelyn's stare. He flushed darkly in embarrassment, and began to eat faster, if that were even possible. Evelyn gave him a disarming smile, trying to convey a bit of the gratitude that she felt. A pause in his next bite gave her reason to think he caught it before he looked away.

"I can't believe that you're here," Evelyn sighed happily after her plate was empty, settling back in the wooden chair with a satisfied air. "You should come when go out next. Could always use the extra hands."

"I'm sure we'll end up working together. We have a lot to catch up on. Even with everything going on, Inquisitor, I should hope you find some time for your family?"

Evelyn reached over and clasped Ellen's wrist tightly. "I swear it, El. I fucking swear it."

Dinner passed without incident, and drinks after were served. Hawke and Isabela were no where to be seen, though Merrill and another Dalish elf had joined them at the table with Varric, and now were drinking wine with that very same dwarf. Sera was sitting quietly at her right, and it wasn't until the break in her conversation with Ellen that she even noticed it. Now that she looked at her, she saw that not only was she quiet, she was withdrawn. Her food was barely touched, and she was still stirring her spoon in creamed potatoes, not looking up at all.

_Well, there's certainly a story there. Bed time, I think._

Evelyn reached over with her right foot and slid it up the imp's calf beneath the table and out of sight of everyone seated there. Sera stopped stirring her potatoes and looked up at Evelyn briefly, giving her a weak smile. She knew then that she was right. It was time for her imp to make like a smacked nug and squeal.

"Bedtime, imp? It's been a long day," she said quietly, hiding her question beneath the idle chatter around them.

A jerky shrug answered her. "If you want."

"I want. Come on." Evelyn turned back to Ellen, who was leaning forward across the table to hear something that Merrill was saying to them from further down. She waited politely while the elf finished whatever it was she was calling up to them about sleeping arrangements, then gave El a small smile when her sister's attentions returned to her. "My imp and I are retiring for the evening. If there is anything you need, please see Josephine. She is a magical fount of 'fix it'."

"Lucky to have one of those about," Ellen laughed, eyes glassy from her cups. The left side of her mouth tugged up into a half cocked Trevelyan smirk. "And such a pretty one, too."

Evelyn had not missed how Ellen's eyes lingered on Josephine for a hair's breadth longer than normal, and neither had Bethany. The assassin gave a glance at her future sister-in-law now, seeing her purse her lips together and roll her eyes at Ellen's words, but no anger or jealousy flashed. Curious.

"Much more than a pretty face, I assure you, dear sister mine." Evelyn gave a bow to her twin and to Bethany, reaching for the latter's hand and placing a kiss on the knuckles. "Such an honor to finally meet you, Bethany."

"The honor was mine, of course, Inquisitor. And you, as well, Sera," Bethany replied with a genuine smile at both of them as she brought her hand back to herself.

"Hey, um, when it's just like this, among the Circle… I'm just Evelyn. When it's family, it's just Evelyn. Fuck formalities."

"Fuck formalities," Ellen said with a jovial tone, standing up and crushing Evelyn to her in a hug for the history books. "My twin. Can't believe I'm with you again."

Evelyn's arms clamped around Ellen in a vice grip, and she denied the tears that welled at her eyes as she squeezed them shut just as hard. The world had split them apart in a very cruel way as children, so it was only fitting that they came together in a way just as cruel. The world had to literally be ending for the Maker to see fit to bring them back to each other. "I love you," she said to Ellen, the words sounding foreign in her own voice, having been years since she had said them to anyone. She thought them all the time when she was looking at Sera, but this was different. Ellen needed to know. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too. Always have."

When they broke their embrace a moment later, she looked over to see Sera averting her gaze so hard that it was obvious something was bothering her. The mage thing? Probably. In fact, it was most likely. Evelyn felt a sinking feeling in her gut at the conversation coming. If there were a way to make her come back to the reality of the situation, this was it.

The walk to their room was quiet, although Sera allowed Evelyn to take her hand, and even squeezed it a bit as they left the Great Hall. The assassin kept stealing glances at her lover, but Sera was looking resolutely forward, giving her only her side profile in the moonlight. Despite the circumstance, Evelyn couldn't help but notice one thing.

_Maker, she's beautiful in the moonlight. Thank you for allowing me more time with her, every day. I have never been more thankful to be alive._

She flexed her left hand, where the mark constantly dully throbbed and sometimes jabbed her with pains. The key to closing the rifts. The thing that Corypheus wants. Maker given? Wrong place at the wrong time? Right place at the right time? None of that made sense.

But Sera? That magnetism? That made all the sense. The girl was a tether. A rock.

The small room off the lower courtyard was alight with the roaring fire in the hearth, warm and inviting to the makeshift straw mattress on the floor opposite the flames. Once inside and the door shut and bolted, Evelyn turned to Sera once more with the question on her lips, but the elf was already looking at her with her eyes wide and shimmering with tears.

"What's wrong?" Evelyn said, moving forward to pull the girl to her, but Sera held up a hand before she got to close.

"Hold your gob, let me talk first," Sera said quickly. "Been waiting for the chance, and I friggin' wish it was before dinner. I tried, okay? I really tried, Shiny, I swear. But they were walking behind me, and it was like I could feel them like they were breathing on my neck or something. So I told them I couldn't do it, that I need some time to get used to it. Because it isn't like… I don't hate them. I don't want to hate them, anyway."

"Whoa," Evelyn shushed her quietly. She moved to take her coat and belt off, but kept her eyes on Sera. "Tried to do what, imp? Slow down, tell me from the start."

So as Evelyn continued getting ready for bed, Sera told her about how she tried to go read after their tryst in the dungeon cell, the guard harassing her, then walking the ramparts and literally running into Ellen and Bethany.

"It went okay, until she asked me to show 'em the way to the table, yeah? I said I would, and started goin' that way, then… I just couldn't. Not like that. Not alone, and with them at my back."

"Dorian and Solas are at your back in a fight," Evelyn pointed out.

"I know them," she blurted out, flinging a hand to one side. "Well, enough to know that they don't want to piss you off."

"Listen to yourself, imp," Evelyn said gently, moving towards her now in just her tunic. "You just said it. Why would my own sister attack you, knowing how I would react?"

"She was pissed when she realized that I don't like magic. The other one was nice about it, though. Calmed your sister down. I asked for time, and she agreed."

Evelyn felt her heart stutter in her chest at the words. Sera wasn't shutting the idea down completely. She was just asking for time to get used to them. "Imp…" Evelyn's voice trailed off as she reached out and pulled her lover to her by the wrist. "Thank you."

"Thought you were going to be mad," Sera muttered, burying her face into Evelyn's chest. "Didn't know how to tell you."

Evelyn pressed a kiss to the elf's temple. "Never be afraid to come to me with anything, ever. Please. I'm here for you, always, in every way."

* * *

"Never be afraid to come to me with anything, ever. Please. I'm here for you, always, in every way."

_Always, huh? You sappy tit._

Her words combined with the all-enveloping warmth of the arms around her made Sera melt against Evelyn's taller frame, her arms coming up to loop around Evelyn's neck. "How do you always do that? Just make it better?" Sera asked her quietly, shaking her head as she brought her face out of her hiding place to look at Evelyn's softly smiling face.

"Oh, I don't know. I just stumble around drunkenly, hoping for the best."

"Spot on, Shiny. Spot on."

The kiss they shared after was tender, a slow end to the conversation that Sera had been dreading for hours, and the best outcome she could have asked for. She thought about how Ellen had panicked, asking her not to tell Evelyn to choose. Did she really think that Shiny would take Sera over her? What the hell had given her that idea? Did she know something that Sera didn't? After all, it was Ellen that got the "I love you" from Shiny earlier, wasn't it?

It was stupid. It was so stupid. But she was jealous. She was jealous that the first time she heard those words from Evelyn's lips it wasn't to her. Sera hadn't realized it, but she had been waiting for them, expected Evelyn to say it to her any day now. The looks, the touches, the declaration that she was the best thing to ever happen to her, come to her with everything, always? It all said she loved her back, right? She wasn't daft to think that? …right?

_Ugh, this is stupid. I'm so confused. Bloody tit gives me signals and doesn't say a word. Arse._

And it wasn't like Ellen was just some random woman, someone trying to take Shiny away. She was her sister, the love was a different sort of love. It was just words. It was actions that mattered. The actions happening right now.

They were in the bed now, completely skin to skin, mouths and hands doing all the talking without saying a word. It was that slow, patient way that had happened in Haven during the snowstorm, the time that Sera felt like she was actually merging into the woman she had been straddled across with the assassin buried so deep inside of her. The memory of the sensation gave her a tremor, and she clutched onto Evelyn that much tighter as the beautiful human on top of her kissed all over her face.

"I wish we had a fake cock sometimes," Evelyn sighed despairingly. "So my hands could be free to touch more of you. I can't sprout another arm."

"Pfft," Sera laughed, squealing a little when her lover grabbed her waist playfully for the laugh at her statement. "You wouldn't know what to do with one."

"Wanna bet on that one, imp?" Fingers crept down between the elf's thighs, skating over the sensitive folds and teasing at her entrance. "You only think I make you come hard now. If I ever get one of them, a hundred sovereigns say you're in trouble." She pushed into Sera, pulling back out immediately to circle around her sweet spot at the top.

The image was there, placed by Shiny's own voice. The physical reaction of spasms in her lower belly and the resulting breath she released were surprises. It just surprised her period, considering her general distaste for being on the receiving end of such things. But as always, Shiny was different. It wouldn't be a whore trying to do it, or some fucking prick with magic. Just Evelyn, and that was great.

"I'll take your hundred, and raise it that you'll be the first one with it up your bits," Sera challenged Evelyn now, making the human laugh.

"All right, you're on."

Sated and sleepy an hour or so later, Sera found herself wrapped up in Evelyn's arms, her face nestled comfortably in the crook of the woman's neck. Her eyes were closed and she was on that precipice of sleep where the real world still seems real, but there was a fuzziness that made it all sort of dream like, as well. That weighted feeling of contentment was shrouding her like a blanket, and she was smiling softly as she reveled in all that was  _them_. The thief thought about the words Shiny said that day, and realized with a start that she hadn't said them back, even when she really felt the same way. She shifted against Evelyn, pulling her face free to look at the assassin that held her so close.

"Hey, you," she whispered, seeing those long eyelashes resting peacefully on Evelyn's cheekbone. "You awake?"

Dark, perfectly shaped eyebrows drew together adorably, and it made Sera smile wider to see it. "I wouldn't be if  _someone_ would go to sleep, too." One eye cracked open to give Sera a playful glare.

"I just… you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, too." Both of Evelyn's eyes opened at this statement, and she pushed herself up onto one elbow much like Sera had done in the dungeon when Evelyn had said it.

"You mean that? Not just honeyed words?" The teasing grin behind the words softened the mockery, and Sera knew Shiny was just messing, anyway.

"Shut up," Sera giggled, shoving Evelyn's shoulder. To be fair, she would do or say anything to have that smile on her Shiny's face whenever she could. It was one of the biggest things that made her shiny, made her deserving of the title outside of the mark. She loved that smile. She loved Evelyn. There were no doubts in her mind about that, anymore.

"Make me."

Hands pulled her back to the assassin and Evelyn rolled over so that Sera was on top, opening her thighs so the elf could nestle herself against her. The thief held herself up on her arms to stare at Evelyn's face in the firelight, neither of them saying a word, just grinning at each other until Evelyn rolled her hips up into Sera suggestively, biting her bottom lip and raising an eyebrow.

"So much for sleepin', yeah?" Sera snickered, lowering her face for more kisses. "I guess I have to prove it to you now."

"You already have," Evelyn disagreed quietly. She took one of Sera's hands and led it to her breast. "But I won't say no to reaffirmation."

"What is—?"

A finger over her lips silenced her. "Later, my imp. Just keep touching me."

* * *

Small, stubby fingers tugged the last bit of rope through the knot; short, stocky arms pulled it as tight as they could. The creaking of Scout Harding's leather armor was the loudest thing in the empty rookery, and it ground on Leliana's nerves. It wasn't the dwarf's fault, she was only lending a hand while Leliana sorted out some recent reports. In the stack of papers was a hastily scribbled note from Evelyn about what Hawke had shared with her on the battlements, and a promise of a full verbal report come morning. The most interesting thing written was that Corypheus could control Grey Wardens. It had been bothering the bard ever since. Kallian hadn't written, hadn't appeared. She was out of the Deep Roads but no closer to her, despite the missive from Bhelen a month before. Did the cure elude her? Did she come out to disappear with the rest of the Wardens? Did she leave for good that night, and had Leliana been fooling herself for all of these years that her wife would return to her side?

_So much to think about, to sift through._

Hawke had a contact going into hiding in a place called Crestwood. Leliana knew the place, had traveled through it from Lothering to Denerim with none other than Kallian and company during the Blight. She remembered hearing that it had been flooded, but the town rebuilt itself alongside the edges of the lake the first settlement now rested beneath. It was morbid, to be honest. Despite her personal distaste for rebuilding beside a watery grave, she had to send a team in. There were rumors floating to her desk far before Haven fell, and now Hawke was meeting a rogue Warden there soon with the Inquisitor in tow. Not that she didn't trust Hawke… well, she didn't… but she needed to know the scene before Evelyn stepped foot there.

There were also the mercenaries she was tracking in Minrathous until they escaped a botched job, Charter was finally able to pin them down in Ferelden. It was a small victory, but a victory, nonetheless. They were the best at what they did, and Leliana needed the best. The elf had written that one was quiet and terrifying; that had to be Marius. She said the other was loud, opinionated, and unbelievably irritating: Tessa Forsythia. Charter's description of the woman made Leliana smile, thinking about how she had once described her wife in much the same way.

_Merde. It always comes back to Kal._

Gloved fingers came up to rub her temples softly to try and relieve some of tension coiled there. "Lace," she heard herself say to cut through the sound of the leather moving. "Come here a moment, please?"

"My lady?" Ever inquisitive and adorable, Lace Harding made her way over with questions written all over her freckled features.

"I need you to go to Crestwood. Do you know it?" She straightened her spine and hardened her eyes before she turned to look at the dwarf standing opposite her desk.

The little ginger woman gave her a nod. "My pa and I made runs of sheep there after the Blight. There was an insane demand for wool, and—" she broke off at the plain stare Leliana was giving her. "Yes, I do," she amended with a light blush.

Leliana gave her a small smile, and the girl relaxed. "There is a Grey Warden going to ground there, and I want to know his location before Hawke does. She will be setting out soon, so I need you leave as soon as possible. A small team should be more than enough to get what we need. Cooper should be available to be your second. When Charter arrives from her current assignment, I will send her to you, as well."

"Is there anything else you want to know while I am there?"

"There are reports of rift activity, and undead rising. If you could confirm this, I would be grateful."

"I'll do my best." It was said with conviction that Leliana found in only a handful of her scouts, and it was a quality she deeply appreciated in them.

"That's why we're talking about this. Tell no one else but Cooper and your team of the mission. Find Tanner and send her to me with a verbal list of who you chose."

Harding pulled her fist across her chest and hurried away immediately, knowing a dismissal when she heard one. Leliana waited until she could no longer hear the dwarf's footsteps, then released a long breath as she collapsed into the wooden chair behind her. Exhaustion was a soft word. Her body screamed to rest, and her mind spun with near dementia, flashing into her past or into a projected future at any given moment. When was the last time she slept? Days ago, surely?

A loud caw from her right jerked her into an upright state, and she received the bird on her arm when it swooped in through the window. It held a small roll of vellum in its beak that it willingly handed over to its master as she cooed softly to it. She stood and walked the bird to the water trough she had installed in the tower for her pets, allowing him to step onto the rail. She gave his head a little rub, then returned to the light of the candle on her desk to read his message.

" _N-_

_I was in Val Firmin when I witnessed the Herald's miracle of sealing the hole in the heavens. It was something to behold, but as impressive as it was, it did not take my attention from a mabari waltzing into town with a pretty elf and a drunk dwarf in dreadful need of a bath. The mademoiselle looked familiar, and the more I thought on it, I realized she was the friend of yours you asked me to keep an eye out for many years ago. Keen elven hearing allowed me to pick up their conversation, saying they were heading west, to the Approach._

_I do hope this helps, in some manner._

_Missing you during a great shoe season,_

_G."_

Gervais. She said a quick prayer for a blessing on her old friend from Val Royeaux, one of the elven servants in the Grand Cathedral. He had remembered her words to him before she left so many months before to report to Haven for Dorothea. Before she, Cassandra, Varric, and many others nearly died with the thousands that were now with the Maker… or lost in the Void. She silently wondered where she would have spent eternity if she had gone that day.

She read over the message once more to memorize the lines, then carefully rolled it back up and placed it in her inner pocket with the note from Bhelen. Her hand immediately dipped behind her chain mail to grip the ring there, squeezing it as if holding it as hard as she could would make Kallian feel her, make her send a letter or come home. What were she and Oghren doing in the Western Approach? Did it have to do with the whispers of Venatori camps being seen popping up along its borders? What was out there? Was that where the Wardens were hiding? Why, with Venatori involved? Did Corypheus have control of them? Of Kallian? The thought made her gut twist. Not her Warden.

So many fears. So many questions, and not enough answers to make the pain go away. She lifted the ring to her lips for a quick kiss, then tucked it back into its permanent home near her heart. Tanner would be reporting before long, and it wouldn't do to be caught with a wedding band in her hand. Her status with Kallian was a well guarded secret that exactly thirteen people knew, and she knew well where each of them were in the world, even the mages Anders and Velanna. Four of them were in the castle at the moment: Cassandra, Josephine, Evelyn, and Sera. Alistair was in the palace in Denerim. Cyrion, Shianni, and Soris were all in the same city as Alistair. Nathaniel was in Amaranthine. Oghren was with her wife. Zevran was hiding in Nevarra.

She shook herself out of her thoughts, and busied herself by pulling a blank sheet of parchment from the stack to her left, and taking her quill from its home to pen a quick note to Charter.

" _Charter,_

_I thank you for showing our friends around the countryside! It's a beautiful time of year for it. Tanner was going to be in the area soon, so I thought I would let her carry a personal thank you for being such a diplomat. She also offered to see them to their destination so you can see to your sick aunt in Crestwood. Safe travels, my friend._

_N."_

She blew on the ink to hurry its drying, replacing her quill to its stand. She had an idea about the Approach, she just had to bring it up to the Inquisitor in the morning during their daily meeting. She paused as she waited on the ink to finish setting, realizing that she had come to the end of her tasks, once she sent this off with Tanner. Josephine wandered through her mind, wandering if the woman was up and over looking the foreman's shoulder as he and his crews worked day and night to put Skyhold together again. Her friend was just as bad as she was about letting work overtake everything else, if not even worse. She had not seen the woman make a place to sleep, but then again, she did enjoy her privacy.

The echo of footsteps reached her ears, and she stood up from the desk, folding her note tightly. Tanner's slender form came into view, the smuggler's head covered in the green hood of an Inquisition scout. She gave a salute when she came to a halt in front of the desk, standing at attention. Leliana gave her nod back, keeping her urge to smirk clear from her face. Cassandra had to bully this one into service, but she had taken to her tasks willingly and successively, so Leliana counted her an asset to her ranks.

"Lace is heading east with Ritts, Cooper, and Miller. She said she will be in touch as soon as she assesses the situation."

"Good," Leliana replied shortly, storing the knowledge. "I have a task for you." She handed her the folded note. "Charter is escorting some new friends this way, so I would like for you to meet her on the spot I marked for you on this map." She shuffled through a different stack of paper on her desk, finding the map she had drawn earlier in the evening. "Relieve her of her duty, give her the note, and bring the friends here."

"Easy pickings. I'll leave out immediately." Another salute, and Tanner was gone.

Leliana looked around the circular tower room, her eyes coming to a stop on the cot tucked into the far corner, out of sight of the stairs. It was a good thought. She had word on Kallian, all of her tasks at hand were completed. It was finally acceptable to sleep.


	23. Chapter 23

It was just past dawn in the cold, barely lit hall past the ambassador's new office.  _The fucking sun hasn't even traveled to this side of the castle, yet._ The words traveled across a mind that was still crusty with an overabundance of sleep, and a lingering touch of her sickness around the edges.

Hawke was here on orders received yesterday after she'd woken up not recalling how she'd gotten into a bed. It quickly became apparent that Ellen, Bethany, and Bela had been handling things while Hawke fought off whatever godforsaken illness that had overcome her. It shocked her that they didn't muck anything up, but she credited that to Bethany's ability to rein Isabela in when the need arose. She had also woken to the news that Bethany was opting to travel with Ellen and the Inquisitor instead of sticking with her, Isabela, Varric, Merrill, and Dora.

So, now, here she was propped against a frigid stone wall with her eyes closed, freshly bathed and dressed in clean clothes after days without either, getting final instructions before she left for Crestwood in a few hours. Isabela was at the stables, bartering with the horse master for mounts to use, and Hawke could only pray to the Maker that the pirate did not give that old man a heart attack with her version of "bartering".

"You look like shit." Varric's voice reached Hawke's ears as she leaned against the wall outside of the door to the room where the Inquisition's war council met.

She opened her eyes to see him strolling up to her from the ambassador's office, flipping a copper piece as nonchalantly as she ever saw him. He was wearing a curious look, one that told her that a ton of questions were about to be asked. She sighed heavily, dreading the experience. Despite the fact she had been sleeping for nearly five days, she still felt like she could go on for another week. The last thing she wanted was to have to answer Varric's barrage because she would be honest with him, and honesty was a chore for Hawke. She had enough of the honesty thing with Bela.

"Thanks," she said to him sarcastically when he drew even with her outside the giant wooden doors. "All I wanted to hear this morning was how I now resemble a steaming log. What would I do without friends like you, Varric?"

"You know me," he said with a chuckle, taking a nip from his hip flask. "Always ready to tell it straight." They both chuckled at the outright lie he was telling.

"Did you talk to the Inquisitor about coming with us?"

He nodded. "She's fine with it. Encouraged it, actually. She knows how much I've missed you and Rivaini."

Hawke's mouth twisted into a smile. "I'm sure it has nothing to do with her having Ellen and Bethany join her crew for this excursion."

Varric gave a shrug. "Eh, probably. But you can't really hold it against them. They need time to reconnect."

"They've had almost a week. Bethany is my best healer." It was a weak excuse, but nonetheless true. Hawke was more sour at the fact that Beth had elected to go with Ellen rather than her. This was the first time that their paths were parting ways in years, even if only for a few days, and Hawke was finding it difficult to facilitate the fact that her baby sister was all grown up and no longer in need of her protection.

"Nightingale needed Sparkler for something else, and Buttercup doesn't get on well with Chuckles. She's trying with Stormy and Sunshine, so there's reasons all around that it worked out the way it did. Besides, that Dalish friend of Daisy's, what's her name?"

"Dora?"

"Fang, that's right!" Varric exclaimed dramatically, wagging a finger at Hawke, who grinned after she bit his bait to announce his nickname for her. "The one that burst into a fucking  _wolf_ a few days ago when Rocky was experimenting with that powder outside the new tavern. Couple that with the sight of Rivaini playing cards with Tiny, and that was one hell of a day, Hawke." He shook his head. "And here I thought I'd seen it all."

Hawke grinned. She was actually upset she had missed both things. Apparently, one of the Chargers, as the qunari's men were called, was an explosion specialist. He was tinkering around with a new mixture in the upper courtyard on Hawke's third day of sleep, and when the noise of it exploding reached Dora's ears in the tavern, she burst into a wolf out of pure instinct in a room full of people. She would have paid good coin to see the looks on their faces when Dora sprouted fur and teeth out of nowhere without anyone knowing it was in her skill set. And seeing Isabela seated at the same table as a horned man, much less playing a hand of cards with him? That in itself was priceless.

"Anyway, she seems like she knows her shit. If she can shape shift, I'll take my chances on getting a healing spell from her."

Hawke crossed her long arms over her chest and propped a foot up on the wall she leaned against. "I'm not doubting her skill. I'm just– I don't know."

Her best friend gave her a nudge, and when she looked over at him, he was holding out his flask to her. "Kill it," he told her kindly, his hazel eyes understanding. "I have more."

She was gratefully draining the last of the brandy into her mouth when the door down the hall opened again, shutting loudly behind Cullen as he strode through it with a purposeful gait. When he caught sight of the two occupants in the hall, he slowed his pace and a look passed over his scruffy face that told of his thought to turn and dash back the other way. But then he started forward again, now lacking the step he initially had.

"Good morning, Varric. Hawke. It's been a long time."

_Not that long, you son of a bitch. The Inquisitor may see you as some sort of hero, but I remember you from before, Rutherford._

"Knight Captain," Hawke returned shortly, enjoying the way his face colored red with the title.

"I'm no longer a templar. My title is Commander, now."

Hawke's mouth pulled into a tight smile.

_Got him._

"Tell me, Commander," Hawke said conversationally, pushing herself off of the wall. She stood up straight and looked the man in the eyes, all five feet, eleven inches of her skinny frame at its full height. "Are they people to you, yet?"

The flinch he gave at her words told her that he remembered exactly what she was talking about, but his quick recovery showed a resistance to her menacing stance and baiting tone. Their faces were merely inches apart, so close that Hawke could smell the mint lingering on his breath from his morning cleanse. His mouth opened and closed a few times, his color deepening to puce.

"Things are different now," he finally grated out, his jaw clenching as he spoke through his teeth. " _I_ am different now."

Hawke's eyes narrowed at him. "We'll see. I doubt that."

_Stay well away from my sister and I might leave your fucking balls intact._

Cullen's face studied hers hard for a moment before the man took a step back and he released a long breath. "Luckily it isn't down to you to make that call,  _Champion_." He turned around and walked on to the room, using the smaller door built into the imposing ones that swallowed the end of the long hall. The door shut quietly and politely behind him, despite the flare of temper between them.

"Curly has had a rough go of it," Varric said almost sadly, looking down the hall at the closed door. "He's stopped taking his lyrium. I heard him tell the Seeker about it some weeks back."

Hawke gave a noise of disbelief. "So he's going to end up a blithering idiot like that chump on the docks in Kirkwall? Samson?"

"Samson has gone places since we last met his acquaintance," Varric began slowly, looking down at his boots. He gave a light scoff as he shook his head and then squinted up at Hawke. "If being Corypheus's right hand is places, anyway."

Hawke blanched, her mouth falling open. She couldn't have heard that right. "What?"

Varric nodded. "It was him. Curly and I both recognized him. He led the forces that attacked Haven. He's leading the red templars for Corypheus like some kind of fucked up general."

"That dirty nug humper!" Hawke was seething. The son of bitch was a pathetic mess on a dock the last time she saw him, trying to make a coin to buy his dirty street lyrium after he was booted from the order. "What in seven hells would possess him to make him do such a stupid thing?!"

"Lyrium, I would wager. And that red shit… you know as well as I do what it does to someone."

"Yeah," Hawke said dryly, leaning against the wall again as his subtle reminder about Bartrand and Meredith sank in. Red lyrium sang to its victims. It gave them a feeling like nothing on this side of the Fade could. It was easy to see how Samson had fallen into its melody, as well.

She scowled down the hall to the door that was void an Inquisitor, and that's who Hawke was really waiting on. Trevelyan was the only one in this castle she would answer to. She wasn't bothering with the advisors, or whatever they called themselves, especially Cullen. She didn't trust the redhead, and the Antivan was too nice to be genuine.

But the Inquisitor was a different story. She was the type Hawke could work with, in more ways than one. Hawke's scowl eased into a smirk. Trevelyan wanted to play hard to get, but Hawke saw how they affected her. She could pretend she didn't want it, but she would be lying.

"Uh oh," Varric intoned suspiciously. "That's the smile that means trouble. What's on your mind, Hawke?"

Her smile curled up even higher. "Nothing. I am just happy to be here." She tried to tousle his hair, but he deftly dodged her attempt, smoothing his hand over it and tightening his ponytail despite the fact she hadn't touched it.

"Easy! I won't ask again, sheesh." He gave her a dirty look, but she merely laughed at him.

Before she could pop off a smart reply, the door to the ambassador's office opened once again, and a rumpled, bleary eyed Inquisitor stumbled through it. She was only half dressed in a pair of brown, soft leather pants with no belt, a white button down shirt that was only half tucked in, and a pair of boots that weren't buckled. Her dark hair was down, covering half of her face, and it looked like she had merely run her fingers through it in lieu of a brush when she got out of bed about five minutes before. She didn't move quite fast enough before the door swung shut behind her, nearly knocking her face first into the stone floor, but the rogue recovered quickly… or tried to. She fell sideways into the wall, instead, and not exactly gracefully.

_This is the woman that holds the fate of the world literally in her left hand, and she can't even walk in the morning. Maker preserve us._

"Maker's  _fucking_ balls!" They could hear her curse from fifty feet away, and the entire spectacle of it gave Hawke a good chuckle. All the sexual attraction aside, Hawke liked the Inquisitor. Evelyn seemed like she would fit into Hawke's own little circle.

"Well, aren't we a fuzzy little ball of happiness in the morning?" Hawke teased as Evelyn grew near, and the younger woman's head shot up as if she hadn't been aware of anyone else in the corridor. Her eyes blinked twice in shock before narrowing in suspicion, then closed in exasperation.

The Inquisitor groaned, literally slapping a hand to her face as she pushed on past the human and the dwarf standing there. "It's too early for your shit, Hawke."

"You hardly know me!" Hawke called back over Varric's sharp "Ha!" with a hearty laugh of her own as she pushed off the wall and followed the assassin, eyes locked onto the sight of a leather clad ass. The Inquisitor had forsaken her usual coat with the rest of her armor this morning, and Hawke was taking full advantage of the view. It appeared just as nice as it felt pressed against her the other day, if not more so. Hawke bit her lip, thinking about how she envied that little elf just a bit.

_If I could just get her alone… Bela would get over it. Maker's balls, that's a really nice bum._

"I've had enough of Isabela in the past week to have an idea of what to expect, thanks." Evelyn didn't look back as she shot off the sarcastic remark, just pushing the war room door open and slipping through without holding it for Hawke to enter behind her.

Hawke paused before she opened it and entered, looking over her shoulder at Varric. "She's going to be a tough one to crack, isn't she?"

He shifted uncomfortably on the spot, readjusting his crossbow on his back. "Look, I didn't say this to Rivaini when she was laying it on Sharps all week because it's useless with her. But you have a little more… compassion, than she does. Take my advice on this one: leave it alone, Hawke. They don't play like you and Rivaini, and it's taken them months to get to where they are."

Hawke's nose wrinkled up and she gave Varric a strange look. "I don't want to, like, marry the girl. Just a bit of fun. It's fine, she can have her back when I'm done."

Varric sighed deeply, shaking his head in disappointment. "It's not going to go anywhere, and if it does, you're going to destroy them. Don't you even care about that? You've been around Rivaini too long."

He moved around her without waiting for an answer, opening the door and holding it for her to enter first, and she did so feeling super confused.

How the hell did he just make her feel so guilty?

* * *

It felt like it had been years since she'd been on horseback with a quest after all of the shit with Redcliffe, Haven and the move to Skyhold, then being reunited with Ellen after so long. So much had happened in the past month and a half that it felt like a solid year. Having the feel of a purpose was refreshing, and having Sera nestled against her front as they rode certainly elevated her spirits, as well. Having Ellen riding the white and grey mare to her left was amazing, and Evelyn felt like she could take on Corypheus right then and win just because nothing could bring her down.

"Do you remember the first time you rode a horse?" Ellen asked her suddenly, pulling her out of her own thoughts.

"I cried," Evelyn mumbled, killing the joke before Ellen could get it started. "And Father made fun of me the whole time, wondering out loud in front of the entire stable if I were really a Trevelyan."

"Because Trevelyans have never met a horse they cannot master, right," Ellen scoffed. "I secretly wonder sometimes if we're Trevelyans just because neither of us have the pretentious bullshit mindset that seems to be hereditary."

"We have his eyes," Evelyn muttered darkly. The faces of all her siblings, legitimate and not, flashed through her mind, all with the same green-blue eyes. "All eight of us. There's no doubting our sire, unfortunately."

" _Eight?!"_ Ellen screeched shrilly, making everyone wince at her volume and pitch. She immediately went red around the tops of her ears, and her face went a little pink. "Er– sorry. Ev, what the hell do you mean, eight of us?"

Evelyn gave a chuckle. "You know two of them. One is two summers older than we, and the other was born and a toddler before you were taken. Telys and Ophelia."

"I remember Telys well," Ellen acknowledged. "His mother worked in the kitchen, right? Pretty elf with red hair?"

"Kalilah," Evelyn said with an affirmative nod. "And Ophelia is Nora's daughter. Our old nanny."

"Ah, the daughter of that man in Starkhaven that paid Father to take her in for training with children. Right. Do any of them have the same mother?

Evelyn shook her head. "Not a single one. He avoids Telys, Marissi, and Serena like the plague because they're elf-blooded, and he ignored Ophelia because she was female. But Trevor, precious Trevor is his 'squire'." She made quotes wither fingers, because it was more an official acknowledgement than an actual job title. Her father hadn't need of a squire since before she was born. When the Circles fell and madness overtook the entirety of the Free Marches, her father had hidden in the estate while Maxwell defended Ostwick with the city guard and their house soldiers. "His adoration for dear Trevor is almost a rivalry with his obsession with Max. If it didn't mar his poor, widower father reputation, he would have legitimized him just because he was male and born of a human woman. The kid is a little shit, too, no doubting who his father is."

"So the estate became Father's personal brothel. How ironic that he used to scream at us about how he should have stopped having children after Max."

"Isn't it?" Evelyn said dryly.

Her mind was stuck on the "personal brothel" observation. It hit home for the rogue, opening those fuzzy, maybe memories-maybe nightmares she held from her teenage years. She still didn't know if any of it really happened or if it was her fears of his threats leaking through to her dreams. It was so hazy, but so real, and she was always sore after having them. But surely she would be fully awake if he actually did any of the sickening things she remembered in those flashes?

There was a beat of quiet between them, and Evelyn felt a hand slide onto her thigh in silent support. She pressed a kiss to the side of Sera's head in response, grateful that nothing she had heard about her family so far had seemed to scare her. But she hadn't shared a lot with her, or the worst of the worst. It got pretty dark, pretty fast, when talking about her past. And not all of it had to do with the innocent blood on her hands. It had to do with her innocence, as well.

_Don't think about it… it didn't happen. You were having nightmares because of the sick shit he said to you when he got too drunk. A kid scared of her father. That's all._

"The more I hear of that man, the less I care to meet him," Cassandra grated from her right. It thankfully gave Evelyn something else to focus on rather than  _that_. "Granted, I have never raised children, but I should think there are things you do, and things you do not do."

"I wouldn't know, either way," Bull rumbled lowly from the front of their six man party. "No families in the Qun. But he sounds like a prick."

"No," Bethany spoke up from near the back of the group. "That's not how fathers should treat their children." She was literally the only one in the company that did not have a skewed view of family dynamic, despite the tragedies that had befallen hers that left only her and her sister alive.

"You were lucky that your father was a mage," Ellen sighed wistfully. "Had my own had that sort of understanding, maybe he wouldn't be the shithead he is."

 _Yes, he would. He's a monster. I hate to think what he would be with magic._  Evelyn's grip around Sera's waist tightened to the point where she turned to give Evelyn a quizzical look, to which the human shook her head and mouthed, "Later."

"Was I, love?" Bethany asked quietly. "I worshipped my father as a child. He was my hero until I was in my twenties and realized he was a blood mage that put his entire bloodline at risk to bind the very monster that threatens the world now."

"Other than the blood magic shit, that actually sounds pretty heroic to me," Bull replied reflectively. "If family was something that matters, if he was considered a 'good father', why wouldn't he risk everything to stop something like that Corypheus freak?"

"Maybe, if Corypheus didn't turn out to be one of the first darkspawn, and hadn't been able to control the Wardens and tainted dwarves that ended up luring my sister into the prison to free him. 'Blood of the Hawke', and all of that."

Evelyn shifted in the saddle uncomfortably at the mention of his control over anything with the taint. Demon army. Dead empresses. Now a Warden or a darkspawn army. If he used the darkspawn, would it be considered a Blight? Was that why the Wardens were disappearing together? In preparation for something yet unknown to the rest of Thedas? If the Warden Commander of Orlais had men looking for this Stroud, it seemed like it was imperative they all be in attendance for whatever was coming in their plans. Short of a Blight, all Wardens were wanderers, recruiting and fighting smaller battles, to hear Blackwall tell it. Blackwall. Why were there no Wardens calling at Skyhold for him, if all the Wardens were being summoned? Something didn't add up, and she prayed to the Maker that this contact of Hawke's had some sort of insight on these questions.

"It is getting late," Cassandra intoned over the argument surely brewing between Bull and Bethany. "Perhaps we should make camp, and set off before dawn. We would arrive in Crestwood before night fall."

"We should go off the path, closer to the river," Evelyn suggested. "The horses need water, and I wouldn't mind a bath before bed."

She felt Sera stiffen in the saddle in front of her, and she internally grinned. She absolutely was welcomed to tag along this time. She shot the girl a wink when she turned around to give Evelyn a significant look. The self satisfied smirk that appeared on Sera's face was enough for her.

_Distractions of the best sort, honestly._

"I agree," Cassandra said with a nod, tugging her reins to the left to lead her mare off the path.

It took about an hour, but they found a spot to camp for the night, and Bull and Sera set out to find wood for the night while Ellen and Evelyn tended to the horses, and Cassandra and Bethany set up tents. Once they were alone, Ellen gave Evelyn a nudge.

"Has Sera said anything else about me?"

Evelyn shook her head. "No, but that's probably a good thing. It means she's still thinking. When she thinks this long about anything, it matters to her. That speaks volumes to me, alone."

"You're really in love with her, aren't you?" The question was heavy one, one that Ellen had obviously been dying to ask.

"Completely," she sighed back defeatedly. "And she has no idea because I am terrified she would run if she knew." She watched Cassandra's horse as it drank from the clear water of the river, and gave a derisive snort. "I think the Inquisition is the biggest commitment she's ever made aside from making life a living hell for assholes that deserve it."

"Are you blind, little sister mine?" Ellen chuckled, shaking her head at her twin. "That girl is enamored with you. It has shit to do with the Inquisition."

Evelyn nodded, unable to deny that. "I don't know if she realizes it for what it is, yet. I don't want to rush her."

_Or myself. Saying it out loud makes it real._

Ellen's lips pursed, and she was quiet for a few seconds before she spoke again in a quiet tone. "You know what she said to me? The first thing I needed to learn about her was that no one questions the two of you, not even me." She swallowed audibly, then gave a weak chuckle. "I feel exactly the same way about Hawke, in regards to Beth. No one questions us, not even Hawke, even when she scares the piss out of me. Ev, she knows. She's probably just as scared that she would run  _you_ off if she said anything."

"Maybe," Evelyn said evasively, ready to let the topic go. "I guess we will just have to see which of us breaks first."

"You're just as impossible now as you were when we were kids. Are you ever going to grow out of that?"

"Nope."

"Ass."

"Nag."

They flashed perfectly mirrored grins at each other, the familiarity between them as strong as if the past eleven years had never happened. It marveled Evelyn that she was ever afraid that it would be anything but this. She should have known better. Ellen was a part of her, and she always had been. Time and distance had no impact.

"Let's get these guys tied up. I could use a bite to eat before I get 'hangry'." Evelyn's bobbed her eyebrows as she uttered their childhood joke about her temper when she was hungry.

"Maker, shut your face, Evelyn Christine." Ellen gave her a playful shove.

"Why, you little shit!" Evelyn laughed, feeling a thrill from hearing her full name for the first time in years. She grabbed Ellen around the neck with her arm and rubbed a fist on top of her head, much like when they were young, but Ellen struggled and managed to get loose. It didn't matter, because Evelyn tackled her as soon as she broke out of her grip. It was not long before they were in a full tussle on the ground, laughing and shouting at each other.

They immediately spooked the horses, which called Cassandra's attention to them. The warrior jogged up just as Ellen was giving up under a choke hold her sister had on her.

"Inquisitor! What in Thedas are you doing?" Her sword was half drawn, but when she saw who it was rolling around in the grass and dirt, she sheathed it completely again. She gave Evelyn an exasperated look, making a gesture at the two girls on the ground as if asking again what the hell was going on.

"Aw, shut it with that Inquisitor bullshit. It's just us, and I don't care to be reminded."

"Precisely why I called you so! You  _need_ to be reminded," Cassandra complained. "I take back what I said about not raising children earlier– I'm raising  _you._ "

Evelyn gave her a toothy grin as she released a spluttering and coughing Ellen and took the hand that Cassandra held out to help her, then her sister, to their feet. "And Sera, too. And Cullen, really. You've got three children and you've never even given birth," the assassin sassed her, still in too good a mood to be blanketed with even the Seeker's famous temper. She stopped and her grin grew impossibly wider. "Mama Bear."

Cassandra gave a loud noise of what could only be called disgust, rolling her cinnamon colored eyes at the stupid phrase. Then she did something that Evelyn didn't see coming: she unceremoniously shoved her back down to the ground, then turned and walked away without another word, but with a satisfied half grin twisting her mouth. Evelyn was sure the look of pure shock that exploded on her face was more than enough for the Seeker's revenge on the terrible nickname.

"OOF!" She landed hard on her ass, too stunned at first to react; but Ellen's coughing laughs from against the nearest tree made her own start, and then she couldn't stop.

Cass ignored the laughter from both of the Trevelyan twins as she made her way back up the embankment to the campsite, leaving them to gather the horses that their antics had scattered. It didn't take too long; they hadn't run far, and were grazing about a half mile down river. A bit of apple got them to follow back easily, and the twins rewarded them once they were tied for the night. Bethany met them right down the hill from their campsite in the copse of trees they were using to house the mounts, handing Ellen a water skin and giving them both an amused grin.

"Sounds like you guys had fun watering the horses," she said lightly, looking between them with a dark eyebrow raised. "The Seeker is all huffy now. She came back and told Sera that she needed to grow up and bring you with her. Pretty sure Sera almost pissed herself laughing."

"I'm sure that went well," Evelyn chuckled, pulling her pack free from her mount and tossing the strap over her shoulder.

"It couldn't have gone better, really. The Seeker was stuttering on how to refer to you in regards to you and Sera, so she kept repeating 'your' over and over. Then Sera tried to help her and said, 'my lover', and I thought Pentaghast's head was going to pop off with how red her face became. The funniest thing I have seen all day, and I've been looking at the two of you, so that's saying something."

Evelyn's mouth dropped open in surprise at the cheeky jab from someone that she had thus far perceived to be a quiet, kind soul. Ellen did not show the same level of surprise, merely rolling her eyes and shaking her head fondly at her intended. Bethany gave Evelyn a shrug.

"I tell her all the time she's funny looking, so it just goes double now, because well…." She made a gesture at the obvious resemblance between the two.

Evelyn gave a long, heavy sigh, and looked up at the sky despairingly. "Maker, aren't two older siblings enough to torment me? Must I have one more? At least Telys was always nice to me, I guess. More than I can say for you and Max."

Ellen gave a loud scoff. "Tormenting  _you_ , right. Your memory is flawed."

"Blame the blood and booze, I suppose. You may be right, with the amount of time I have spent drunk on both. Beth, you said Sera is back?"

"She's eating and talking to the qunari," her future in-law said to her, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. "I was going to steal El to walk the perimeter and put up a few wards, if that's okay?"

"Yeah, sure. No fire wards, though. I had that go very wrong for me and my friend Nadine when we were kids. Stick to ice in a forest."

"We're well aware of the risks," Ellen laughed, and Evelyn saw Bethany duck her head, even if she couldn't see the blush on her face in the dark.

"You should tell me about that learning experience some time. I'll tell you about mine. See you guys in a bit." The three parted ways, with the two mages going deeper into the forest, and Evelyn trudging up the hill to camp.

Sera and Bull were indeed back with enough wood, a fire burning brightly in the darkness. Her imp was stuffing her face with jerky, sitting beside the small fire and locked into a debate with Bull about how many whacks with his ax it would take to kill a high dragon.

"I took it's fucking head off in six swings. I stand by my word and my ax, and if Krem were here, he would back me up." He tilted his large head back and poured whatever was cupped in his hand into his mouth, likely nuts or berries.

"You took it's head off, without any help at all, with six swings?" Sera asked in pure disbelief as Evelyn dropped her pack near her. She gave Evelyn a nudge as the human took a seat on the ground beside her, gesturing at Bull with her chin. "This fat tit says he can kill a high dragon in six swings. You ever seen a dragon? Up close like, not like the one where we met Bull."

"Once. I was with Cass, Varric, and Solas. It was about two weeks before I met you." Despite the unenthusiastic tone of Evelyn's voice, Sera's eyes grew wide in wonder and she shuffled so that she was facing her fully, giving her undivided attention.

"What was it like? Was it big? Did you kill it? Why haven't you told me about it?" All of her questions were fired off rapidly, and Evelyn physically rocked backwards, blinking at her lover.

"Us!" Bull added interestedly, leaning forward. "Why haven't you told us?"

She gave them both a crazy look, looking from one to the other and then back again. "I had no idea you were both so interested in dragons."

"I want to see one up close," Sera said dreamily, a smile unfurling on her face. "They're just so… big. Powerful."

"The best fights I've ever had were with dragons." Bull paused, reaching into his bag and pulling out a bottle, tugging the cork free with his teeth. He spat it into the flames, having no more need of the stopper once the alcohol started to flow. He took a large swallow and winced at the burn of whatever it was. "Or a sparring match with the Seeker. That's a damn good fight, too."

"Yeah, she's pretty big and powerful, too," Sera said thoughtfully, chewing another piece of dried meat. "I could see it. But not me. I'll be far away, with arrows."

"For a dragon, or Cassandra?" Evelyn asked with a smirk, making Sera giggle.

"Both."

They shared the laugh after with Bull, which only got louder with the exasperated groan from inside the tent directly behind them. Cassandra was opting for an early night, to take the later watch, leaving the first half to whomever ended up staying awake to do it. Evelyn knew she was doing it to keep space between them, having her fill of the assassin's antics for the day. Seeing how far she could push the older woman was becoming one of her favorite games, and it reminded her heavily of teasing Maxwell.

_Max and Cass would get along really well, come to think about it. Huh… gotta keep that in mind, just in case I ever have the chance to introduce them._

She reached over her imp's lap and stuck her hand into the rucksack on the other side of her, grabbing a few of the pieces of meat thankfully still tucked inside. She was afraid that Sera had eaten it all before she could get back to camp. Settling back with some bits of dinner, Evelyn gave a happy hum. She couldn't remember a time she felt more content, more like her life was truly that: life.

But there was also that niggling feeling in the back of her mind that it could all crash down around her head at any time. That this was a brief respite from the true hell that awaited her. Varric said it once in passing, and it never left her: "Heroes don't have happy endings."

As if reading her thoughts, her hand gave a throb that made her close her fist against the stab of discomfort. A pale hand coming over her clenched one was like magic, how her attention shifted from what felt so wrong to what felt so right. Despite the good, her mind was bringing on the darkness, and quickly. She looked over at Sera, opening her left hand threading their fingers together. "Still want to take a bath?" she asked her quietly, meaning to get away to speak privately now, more than for sneaking off to have sex as she had implied earlier.

"Ready whenever you are, Shiny." Sera squeezed down on her fingers, and Evelyn squeezed back. The thief had picked up on the subtle signal easily enough, which confused Evelyn. Sera was well adept at reading her, yet Evelyn couldn't get the point across that she was mad for her without screaming the words in her face?

Maybe Ellen was right. Maybe Sera was in the same position, scared that telling her heart would run Evelyn off. Honestly, Evelyn couldn't say for sure that she  _wouldn't_ run off, if Sera said it first. The only person to say it to her was Daniela, but hearing it from Sera would be different. Sera would mean it. If that proud, stubborn being ever uttered those words to her, it would be like her bleeding her heart out for Evelyn.

That was fucking  _terrifying_.

It was one thing for Evelyn to be in love with the imp; that part was scary, but not on the level of horror of Sera being in love with her. Evelyn had been in a similar place once before. But never had anyone loved her back. The notion that someone was actually capable of doing so blew Evelyn's mind.

_Someone that has seen what I am capable of doing. Someone that has seen me at my worst. Someone that still looks at me like I'm… I'm… shiny. She is my best friend. She's the reason why I am still sane. After all I've done, I have her. I will gladly save the world to keep her, even if it costs me my life in the end, I will buy time with her._

She meant that with her entire being.

"See you later, Bull," Evelyn said over her shoulder as they walked off into the darkness.

"Have fun, kids," he answered with a wave.

Sera didn't try to break the silence between them as they walked down the embankment toward the sound of the running water licking at the sides of the mossed over stones there. The moon was bright enough to light the path once the canopy of trees broke closer to the river, so Evelyn didn't have quite as hard a time seeing. It was chilly out, but not freezing. The water was only slightly stifling in its temperature once they removed their boots and rolled up their pants legs to merely dip their feet in from the rock they were using for a seat.

"Wanna talk about what happened earlier on the road?" The question had obviously been on the tip of the elf's tongue since it'd happened.

Evelyn gave a noncommittal shrug. "I had a shitty childhood. Talking about it sucks, especially when my father is brought up." She swallowed the rock that lodged itself in her throat at the end of her answer. "He spent so much time making me miserable that I am no longer clear what was real and what was nightmares." Fingers crept across the rock in the dark to carefully twist themselves through hers.

"He's a real tit," Sera muttered darkly, kicking her foot to make the water splash outwards. "Can't believe you came from him, either. That's one thing I can agree with your sister about. I would love to give him a reason or two to not be an arse." Then she nudged Evelyn in the ribs lightly, turning to give her a sly grin. "Like your eyes just fine, though, glad you have 'em."

"I like yours, too," Evelyn replied, wishing she could see the colors that swirled in them as she looked at her lover. "Reminds me of Ostwick when it storms. That grey danger, that crashing sound on the rocks that you can fell reverberate through your whole body. Your eyes are home for me. Have I ever told you that?"

Sera's eyes had widened and her mouth had slightly fallen open as Evelyn spoke, and now the imp could only shake her head slowly, looking at Evelyn as if she was just seeing her for the first time. "No," she finally said after a few seconds of pause. "You and that honey, though."

The assassin also froze for a moment, taking in the features illuminated by the dim white light from the moon above. "Every bit of it is truth."

_I love you. I love you. I can't say it, and if you feel that way about me, why won't you say it?_

She tried to tell her through the way she kissed her now, the slow way she slid her lips over Sera's, tightening her grip on the thief's hand. Even if she couldn't say it, even if Sera couldn't, there had to be some way to know for certain where they stood, to know that she wasn't the only one that wanted this forever.

"What are we doing?" she whispered to the girl when their mouths parted for a shared breath. "What is this? This thing between us?"

Sera's eyebrows drew together, her breath stopping for a moment as she went completely silent while her brain worked to process what Evelyn had asked. She watched shock, fear, acceptance, and then a fiery determination roll through the archer's expression. "It's real," she blurted out, turning four shades of red with the words. "For me, anyway."

_Okay, positive answer. Good answer. Thank you, Andraste._

"For me, too," Evelyn admitted in a relieved tone. She licked her lips nervously, pulling her hand out of Sera's to fidget her fingers together at what she wanted to say next, the three small words stuck in the bottom of her throat and refusing to budge. "Sera, there's something I want to tell you. I think… no, I know. I —"

A loud roar ripped through the calm night air, echoing against the trees on the other side of the river, making the horses scream in response. It was a deep roar of outrage, and Evelyn recognized it as Bull immediately. Her blood ran cold at what could make him go off like that, only having heard it when he was fighting the red templars invading Haven. She was in her boots and running up the hill with them half tied a second later, her hip daggers in her hands until she noticed Sera had no weapon. She pushed one of her daggers into the surprised elf's hands, but the thief's surprise faded into a cold acceptance. She gave Evelyn a nod, and then the two continued running up the hill into camp, hearing the telltale noises of a genuine scuffle with all the clangs and bangs of weapons clashing.

When they crested the hill, what they found was chaos.

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my madness. This story was originally posted on ff, but as I find myself spending more and more time on this site, I decided to toss it up over here and see what happens. :)
> 
> Like it? Hate it? Opinions are like ass holes, everyone has one, and I'd love to hear yours!


End file.
